Forgive Yourself

There's too much to hate as it stands.

Most days, I feel like this janky, fuzzy-looking, worm I made on word. This guy isn’t particularly impressive, and he only exists because I just told you he does. For as long as you read this, and stare into his empty eyes, he is here. Then, once you go, as does he.

No matter what I do, I feel like a single tool in a very big box. Even after moments of great accomplishment, my mind turns towards the next task, and a final goal to feel like a success. Anything less than 110% is failure, and anything more doesn’t deserve lauding. After many years of this mentality, my body is a glass funnel and my thoughts are clumps in a brown sludge solution passing through me. Look around, unpick your bones, make love from the crust of a mouldy apple, and plunge into a stagnant ocean. Be fast, but never forget to be slow. Be kind, but know when to turn on others. Be strong, but weak for them.

A man for all seasons, a glove to fit sharp fingernails. Taste soft butter and gorge no more. Rivers of blood around castles of dust, and love guides me home to a thorned nest.

Show it and breathe it, for this world is your own. The grey façade behind their eyes is yours to cure, to consume. Feast, scrump on an orchard of rotten dreams, look on with a smile as all is born and lost. Look on, and know not the weight. Burn strong, my flimsy promise, for your lines blur in potent rains. Grow firm, and run far.

I am the memory of a losing battle, and the night you remembered how to cry. I am the length of your yearning, and the soap upon your wounds. I am tomorrow, but you can never embrace me. I am a shaking hand, and a last breath, and a known soul, but my virtue is a costume and your love is a paper flower. I am morning, but I smell blood on your fingernails, and reject your false promises. I am failure, and my grin permeates the dark, as you rub at your bruises. Save me, crowning glory, for my joy is subservient and my suffering is suicide. Accept permanence as you flake away, and kiss me in my casket.

When you look away, these crooked teeth will trickle. I will scream. Turn to look, but these cravings are as supple as a cigarette. Give me joy, take it home, drink alone, and deepen this blade to bone.