The self is a companion
In the most senses of the word.
It ambles by your side
Ever quiet
And knows exactly where
You want to go;
Where you do not.
It never drags you unwillingly
Into tenacious messes and tangles
For companionship’s sake,
Instead leading you gently
Like a leaf through the air
Following its shadow;
A trajectory into a muffled nothingness
And quiet melancholy
You learn to embrace for its peacefulness.
It shares things with you
Sometimes it can be quarrelsome
But will never desert you
In anger or frustration
Except in those times
When it becomes sullen and difficult
Mulling over discrepancies
Between you and itself,
Things you had neglected
Or failed to notice;
Things you tried to force upon it
Forgetting the fight in its spirit
Always equal to yours
Except surpassing in patience, tolerance
Until it can bear no more.
It tells you things
If you listen.
You never walk by yourself.
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