Work Text:
My mistakes accumulate, and combine; no, I am not fine
Try as I might, who I am, and who I wish to be, fail to align
My inner critic believes that I require change on numerous levels
After all, I make a mess of everything I touch, and then he revels
knowing he is right, I wonder if there is something fundamentally wrong
with the blueprint of my being, that prevents me from being strong
So, how do I level up in this rogue-like game of life, with inbuilt handicaps
battling addictions, mental illnesses and disease, just to win the small scraps
of happiness occasionally thrown my way like bones to a starving dog
sometimes I wish I had died in the womb, rather than live this life, this agonizing slog.