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Blank Canvas

Asbestos ceiling. Dealing with shadows of a recent past. It isn't real. Now I've come so far. The mind plays its games, it won't always be the same: Surrender to presence and be who you are.

It isn't real anyway
From the truth it is so far.
What would old Eckhart say?
You get there realizing it's already where you are.

My story is I tried hard. My story is you gave up. Your story is that I broke your heart. The truth is two minds both compete to win, but love is not as easy as a hand of poker cards. 

Now I stare into the mirror. 
My face is a blank canvas. 
I can choose whoever I want to be. 
I don't need another's reassurance. 


'You and me'. A mistaken identity.