even the good things
cause me pain.
i don’t handle life well,
so when things
are not good,
i do badly.
you might think
i don’t want myself
to be happy,
to have a good life.
who am i to argue?
they way i’ve lived my life
hasn’t done me
a lot of good.
the books i’m reading
all agree:
it’s not my fault.
it’s just what it is,
right here
right now.
whatever was done,
by my parents
or my ex-wife
or those shitty kids in grade school
or, now and then, by me –
the past, like the future,
is a fiction.
to blame anyone,
myself included,
is to get lost
in those fantasies.
even the worst pain
fades in time.
let it fade now.
it’s a boring story anyway;
let it fade now.
i don’t need to feel good
to feel good.
i just need to be
awake
to now,
watching them drift away,
the unhappy stories
that, right now,
were never true.