Catch something caught finally collided in the net widely
cast, cascaded, castigated, turned half-crazed; related to
aches and pains allayed by affirmation outside of the
thing most-prized - to say in the mirror that today is ok,
that its actually alright.
But rigor-mortis mind rakes arrays of mistakes stiffened and ice cold
facts of times when I failed to fight attacks by ideas black and blue
battered and flayed on the merciless altar of never being good enough.
Not good enough to measure up to the impossible scaled heights
and pedestals where mistakes are never to be found, where
idealistic heroes stand and stark silver spoons protrude from their jowls.
But mistakes can't be overshadowed by fake snake oil salesmen
lying to show just how great their ascent has been and pointing out how
you are not one of them, yet maybe this is just a churlish illusion of a half baked brain
unable to see the reality that it is half baked.
So half baked brain looks to clasp some reality where the other half has a
chance to learn to develop a sense of actual self then. Living in the realms
of seeking affirmation for every breath and cell division, is this ok? Is this
good enough then?
Mom doesn't think so as she rails and deflates the person you should have been.
Is this something actually something then?
The child chastises itself and fails again.
by Paul Sinclair