
Pretending
The big gaping hole in our chest
We pretend that love is outside of us And we embark on an arduous journey To find and bring home that love Not realizing the infinite supply we have In the big gaping hole in our chest
We wave our hand through the air And it feels like nothing We look inside our big gaping hole And it, too, feels like nothing So we pretend that we are empty and lacking
Unconditional love is like air It does not become obvious until it moves But we cannot move it Until we look within and see it there And stop pretending it does not exist
We pretend that we are not divine In order to search for our divinity But there is no need to search For we are filled to the brim with it In that big gaping hole in our chest
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