antiquated in approach
to hopeless romanticism,
some polish is gained
with some ruin.
the first voice of my younger self,
the common denominator of age, increasing,
the lingering celestial drug of ego
only exasperated by Dionysus.
please don't confront me with my failures
for I have not forgotten them
and I have poems and songs and mirrors
to remind me every single evening.
confidence is trickling back in,
like a leaky levy with a red hue
and a reflection of everything wrong from then on.
if I splash my face I will taste
that which is incapable of being evaded,
and if I seem to be afraid, I am not,
I just don't want to risk another life these days.
that which is incapable of being evaded,
and if I seem to be afraid, I am not,
I just don't want to risk another life these days.
as a civet cat living in an attic,
it is the self-raillery
that has taught me most about moving on,
from beginning to end, back again.