These, the Wings of Mirthless Musing

Can’t see how I’ll survive tomorrow
When yesterday’s gaffes still ruin my psyche,
Laying waste to this corporation of self-confidence,
Always reminding what I’ve missed out on.

It’s like my memory of you is parasitic,
Latching onto every thought and sucking it dry
So that there’s nothing in my mind but you
And a ridicule to afflict what should be divine.

As I replay our colloquy frame by frame
I torture myself with words I did not say;
Trudging through the minutiae after the fact,
Even though it makes no shred of difference.

This is the nature of my self-centeredness—
Wallowing where I should be reveling,
For a chance encounter with you is a gift
Not to be profaned by bouts of insecurity.


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