No Fucking Fish

Always up for anything

is how I have been
described 

Always up to drop what I
am doing 

to do what someone else
wants 

Eat what someone else craves 

Go where someone else
wants 

Listen to what someone
else thinks

Live where someone else
wants 

Sing what someone else
wants to hear

Feel what someone else
wants 

Have the adventures of
someone else's life

How many times does one
have to do that 

and when does it become
something that feels normal

When do the scales tip

When does giving away my
desires and my time and my life 

become an intolerable
crime I commit against myself

When does it become
irresponsible to others 

to continue to neglect
myself

The sins of the father do
not have to be laid upon the child

Where is the line between
selfish and selfless

A selfless act is seen as
noble 

but it only is 

if it is
done with a cup that runeth over

If the definition of self
less 

is lack of self 

then what are you really
giving someone

You are not teaching them
how to fish

You are telling them to
abandoned their pole

because you have abandoned
your own

and the result is that no
one is nourished 

No fucking fish

No bread

No water

and certainly no wine







Why can't you stand
up for yourself 

is a question I have
always been asked

and now I find 

that I am the one 

asking myself that very question 

If you find that you
cannot stand up for another

it is probably because you cannot
stand up for yourself

Until all the marionette
strings are snipped

and they dangle from your
fingertips alone

Only then will you
understand the minutiae of affect 

that lifting just one
finger can have

because there will be no
more resistance 

at the other end of the string 

there will be no more
other 

to discharge my own discomfort into 

Only then will I see all
of it 

Only then will I feel all
of it

Only then will I stop
suffering 

Only then will I accept
all of it as mine

Only then can I choose to
love all of it

Only then can I choose to
change it

I will not be whole

Even if I am always human

I will not be content

No matter how still I try to hold

I will not be sure of
myself

Ever abating the relentless the grip of doubt 

I will not be of service

My cup will not be full


Until I experience 

the unconditional
condition 





































































































































to thine own self be true