cursed myself with this self-pity–
it eats at me, agitated acid in my stomach[e]
these- shimmering- spheres-
these i should learn to keep inside
the shaken soda bottle of my condition
[“]there is nothing wrong with me[“]
except for a lack of motivation
skin and bones replacing strength
and a derelict plain where a conscience should reside
i need to retie these soggy bootstraps
pull myself out of this quicksand funk
tell myself what a simpering little brat i am
what a failure i am
how much i hate the person i have become
–
written a4jun2011.
self-hatred as therapy?
better than self-pity.
–
idiography 