I want to forgive but not forget,
The threat of another yesterday.
The peer pressure of my conscience
to my touch, is 6 degrees beyond what I can control.
I say ‘let go’ but it tightens my grip,
As I slip into the rush of defeat.
My addiction to failure prevails,
for I embrace the shame of tomorrow.
One more, no, two, please four,
as the more I conform to the
need to repeat, the smaller the wheel
of what’s real.
It’s all my perfect normal.