zpotter

Perfect Guilt

waiting for perfection,
the ultimate excuse

for not doing
for not being
for not loving
for not achieving
for not trying -

fearful of new avenues 
of critique,
of criticism -
of failure

needing perfection
we fall short of our dreams

the face in the mirror:
the carries the most guilt

New Year’s Resolution

the calendar flips
yet we remain the same -
as cold in January
as we were in December -
we declare ourselves new people,
promising fresh starts;
we change nothing,
though we know our deficiencies
and self-flagellate with great remorse;
declaring we will improve,
we find too much comfort
in the simple ease
of remaining the same;
accepting our limitations
as time, age or disposition,
excusing in ourselves
what we won't in others -
afraid of the greatness
we might achieve
with change.

Introversion

hints of mourning sun
cast soft light
at the edges
of a lonely dark night
warming the emptiness within -

I welcome its purity,
its promise of a new day,
another opportunity
to be what I'm not;
it's why I'm here now:

I need the strength of this calm
before the world wakes,
screaming from their beds,
engines roaring to life 
racing towards more -

in these quiet moments
the world makes sense -
birdsongs' soothing music
echoing across the silence,
the chaos of existence
a forgotten memory.

I soak in this warmth,
reminding myself
all of this is a gift,
I brace for another day.