sometimes i can convince myself
i don’t need more than this,
and feel as guilty as a stare over
the clouds slipping by the
spires.
sometimes i can convince myself
that success at things that
don’t matter make up
for the failure at things
that do.
sometimes i can convince myself
that repetition is the perfect
constant for long division
like chalkboards explaining
the time lapsed from
our invention.
sometimes i can convince myself
that inspiration isn’t necessary,
and reward needs adjustment,
sometimes i can forget what
potential feels like
and slip back inside that
old suit of skin.