Do I love myself?
What does it mean to love?
Is this a yes or no question?
I looked at my body with glory,
Maybe tomorrow but
Just now and not a week ago.
I find things funny,
My body was the first thing that came to mind.

What if my love was swapped from the pedestal?
I would never have known to roll the boulder,
Though now it is passerby,
Perhaps in consequence,
I've been unbeknownst to values which I am meant to love with.

I hear some speak lies
To fortify their entitlement,
As do I, null,
I try not to make anyone hated,
Their Self-included, If I do this
Does that make me virtuous?
Add a tally to the yes list?
Daily I smile at numerous faces,
Does that make me kind,
Or selfish,
Do they know the soul of my smile,
It's regrets?
Add a tally to the no list,
Every letter,
A birth in the swarm of locusts.

I compare my lists, Valuable data,
Defining the who-I-am-vendiagramm,
The next day, throwing it away
To start all over again

The temple-
For empathetic reasons, give it a smiley face.

One sad day,
The temple realized that it had long since lost it's greatest possession.
That what was left on its altar
Is a fake it invested it's life in protecting,
Though it protects still, and always will,
Unwilling to believe
It is missing it's heart,
Because the sack of sand has since grown
Arteries,
Veins and is pumping blood.

My thoughts nor philosophy,
I don't give a fuck,
What is it like when,
Feelings come from the soul?
I've grown tired,
Caged away by my safeguarding
Self-induced blindness.
Craving the situation that evaporates my fallaciousness,
To muster my hidden self-held beliefs
Whereby I realize,
I don't know if I love myself.
Because some-thing
never let my-self love anything.

A decade ago my heart had changed.
Sheltering my mind, through bias it protected me,
Unveiling shutters resulted in my victory,

To love, themselves and
myself included,
Maybe I can't.

Resultantly,
I could.