My nemesis is me

Photo by Anthony Iozzo

A shiver, gut wrenched, twisted knot,

adventure turned to vinegar,

the sour gurgles.

Thoughts wane like prism beams of a sunset.

Not sad but tired.

The water is murky

but my sunken face reflects clear,

like a mirror,

showing signs of fault,

of guilt,

of breaking the rules.

No regrets but changes are still

until the ripples, waves distort the image.

But unlike my wishes,

it isn’t a dream,

and I feel pins in my eyes

wrinkled with rain;

puffy, blind and chaotic,

Hypnotic, rotting in the sun.

Happiness is abstract as

laughter pierces my eardrum.

But it's false, just another mountain crumbling into the sea.

And when the skyline comes into sight, 

all I see is a reflection, a definition of me.