There I was
thinking it was something
worth hanging onto.
That it was something
worth even a second thought.

Now, ten thousand selves onward,
I see the lies from all angles.
And I see how those lies
began with me.

I compromised
and rationalized
and believed
what was not actually there.

Imagining an ideal,
Conjuring a fantasy,
because it was better
than waiting for reality
to quicken its death march.

So there I was,
and, well, here I am.
The same, but not at all.

Because today I allowed the truth.
I permitted it into my view.
And I looked into what I had
so expertly been avoiding.

It had become too obvious
to ignore.

I'm ashamed of my past selves
for allowing such deception.
For creating it.
What a fool!

And yet, a fool still.
But at least—
at least—
this fool can release what was—
what never really was—
worth hanging onto.

©2015 e.gosney

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