I’m a hypocratic mess. By virtue I’m an honest person. By need for unconditional love I’m no good at confession. I’m no good at this stuff. Sometimes is never quite enough. I’ve got to measure up. When most of my wondering focusses on “How long before you screw it up?” I’m an oath to the human condition. Which I find disgusting.
Honestly, I know the words the thoughts the ideas the paths the dogma the faith the attention the easy and the hard. Yet I’m a fool for being so easily mistaken and rejecting myself on this despair. Honestly. Desperation is so unattractive. And no one likes to hear “I told you so.”
I’m leaving today. I’m living it. I’m leaving it. To change. Life is my muse. Begging, pleading, I’ll allow it. I see it. I deserve it.
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