A Sweet little poem on happiness

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to hate yourself completely is to love thyself. 
for who here admires ashlar? 
to hate oneself is a will to change
to cringe at the sound of your own philosophies,
wince at who you are daily as a feast, 
hating yourself truly is a gift 
empathy, contrary to the pied pipers, exists purely for hatred 
and to hate openly is the ultimate sacrifice
because you knowingly incur cureless retaliations

We are all terminally ill. 
Act accordingly. 
And just for one second, in 13 billions years, stop giving a flying fuck and just hate. 
But always out of love. 

◄ the birds when the fly from the trees

There Will Come A Day ►


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