breakfast memories

Thoughts come and go, I enjoy my breakfast. 

Thoughts come and leave aches on my shoulders.

I get anxious but whisper to myself:

"I am not them.

You are not them.

Don't hold on to them."

Thoughts come and dictate short breaths. 

Thoughts come and make you sweat. 

Go deep, go deep into small details.

It is because beauty follows even to the ugliest places.

The future is the future's problem.

I am not them, you are not them. 

The smell of the flowers, I enjoy. 

The gloomy sky takes me higher to the top.

What am I gonna find?

Short breaths, achy shoulders and a wounded heart.

But I whisper to myself:

Don't wander inside your mind, be your own guide.