the worst lies we tell are to ourselves
knelt in an ebbtide; a coastal shelf hung
out beyond the tread water point
where swimming is a requirement
and you are saying
that the life raft is in me
that i have to recall
that a choice predated the fall
who wants to admit
to the closeted shit
they backbrained half a lifetime ago?
but the shit i’m spewing is a backed up flow
i am curtailing the sacrifice
pinned to my own cross
while giving advice
trying deal with the loss
of self respect
the self imposed neglect
there is time to get correct