The specter of my own failings haunts me.
I cannot escape. Clinging tightly to my ankles
just like my shadow, dragging me down.
I can’t outgrow it.
I can’t outrun it.
Like the scar on my forearm
or the burn on my calf
it is a part of me
for better or worse
we must share this body
this patchwork, fractured mind.
I can ruminate on what’s transpired
until the last man burns to ash
be it global warming or the collapsing sun
can’t do a god damn thing about the past.