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Fatally Accepted
Folder:
The Rest It vacillates, that pride in self
Spins from more than enough to apparently nothing at all.
Professionally and in portions of private
Bound up by the varnish of confidence
Then in corners of lonely and doubtful
You see the surrender of self
The brief look at things to improve
Then the slow easy slide into what’s the point
People know and care and support
Expect nothing more than what it is
Excuse temporary self-centric aberrations
Excuse self harm in the form of indulgence
God what a sick making irony
Close to all that you can mentally be
While physically acceptance is fatal.
