it was a wonderful
bonfire.
we held it on the beach.
a crowd gathered,
each bringing their own
pile of books.
self help books.
hundreds of them.
pages and paragraphs
underlined and marked
with dates
and names.
dog eared
book marked.
so many. so useless.
together we danced
as the flames licked
at the stars,
the sea beside
us, black and roaring
with life.
I threw book after book
into the raging flame
and felt
enriched. felt freed,
felt joy for the first
time in ages.
done with the pyscho babble
of the pseudo therapists
and doctors
making a mint on our
human needs.
it was worth every penny
I used to buy
them, just to see them
burn.
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