Friday, February 1, 2013

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.

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