I watch my life as most view a film.

Sitting in dark rooms, images flash past my eyes.

Years get condensed into a neat stack of flashbacks;

I am left with bare impressions to guide my self-perception.​

 

My love affair with “yes” never ceases to take my breath away.

The word slips from my lips and slithers loosely into the air.

More condemnable are the actions that follow.

Without thought, or plan, or intention I choose paths that lead me to these black theaters.

 

The usher rips the stub

The reel turns and I am mortified to see my face

From this vantage point I can see all my mistakes

Failures illuminated

Unable to stop the flow

 

Shame bubbles angrily in my throat.

If only I had made some effort

But my nature overpowers each attempt to be decent.

Left empty of remorse, detached from the process I can clearly identify

I refuse ownership to protect my image

 

Upon reflection I will justify each movement.

Impulsivity leaves me raw with rationalization.