What I Already Know

looking back at me
a figure, mocking–
laughing,
“perfection is…
an impossibility.”

she repeats what
I already know,
but there must be
a short circuit
somewhere
in my brain.

the next day,
i return
only to get
the same response.
a tireless
continuum.

she vanishes
sometimes
for days
for months
maybe even a year.

but I find myself
coming back
to face her–
this eternal hell
and each time
her response
is the same.

Todays best new poem was written by Lauren Begnaud.

 

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