Bad Decisions

Huddled in a corner with a pen

      the paper blots up tears and ink

      and offers no hope of surcease

      to seeds of panic poised to grow.

      If only a little rain would fall.

//

my eyes adjusted to the dark last night

of the light that fades in, flickering

in the bathroom where I have spent my worst times

I saw disappointment in the mirror again

maybe someday I will learn moderation

and stop desperately trying to reach

the bottoms of cups and plates

maybe I will stop wanting to forget

someday,

maybe I will stop having to trace outlines

in the mirror of what I want to see

changing the shape of my jaw,

expectations are the root of all problems,

let them go and you will be fine.