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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1806325
Fighting inner battles...
"Screwing Up"

Sometimes I wonder what happens to the guy I know--
The guy I've lived with for twenty-two years.
You know, we've become pretty good friends over the years,
yet somehow, there are times I wouldn't recognize him
if we walked into each other on the street.
We've had so much fun together, learned together,
lived together, even died together, but didn't
change together. One day he stayed up all night
and missed the bus that carried me into forgiveness.
A few weeks later, I read in the paper that he'd
been hit by a car crossing a downtown street at the
red light in the middle of the night. You can
imagine my surprise when he knocked on my door last
week--he'd come to tell me it's not all that bad.
And as much as I knew it was a bad idea, I invited him
in for tea. That night, I picked myself up off the floor again
and heard him laugh as the door closed behind me. And
15:33 never meant as much to me as it did right then--
even if it's you you're trying to avoid. So I'm left
to wonder how I can ever make a difference
to anyone, when I don't make a difference to myself.
It only confirms that I'll never make it on my own.
The only thing I can look forward to of my own
accord is wishing--and screwing up.
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