Enough of filling spaces
with vacant, incoherent dreams.
Enough of feelings wasted,
unexpressed, bursting at the seams.

Enough of fretting about the mundane,
clogged up with cerebral clutter.
Enough of classifying the profane,
caring too much what others mutter.

Enough of unchartered judgements,
of confining categories.
Enough of dwelling in rudiments,
of unbound distant memories.

Enough of unproductive introspection,
negative internal conversation.
Enough of seeming misdirection,
seeking temporary taste sensations.

Enough of (un)willing condescension
bound by law, bound by seeing.
Enough of perched apprehension,
ironically lowering my wellbeing.