Hinging and Binging
Leading to extreme
Existence becomes mired in the corporeal
A jail for the mind
Save me from my desires and passions
For they do not set me free
They lock doors to the truth of being
A truth found in discomfort
The present moment becomes that which we escape
Swimming in the warmth of the nostalgic past
Sprinting into the anxious realm of the unknowable future
Running from me
But where else does one go
For the present is all I have
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