My Own Worst Enemy

About being to hard on yourself.

Finally good enough

a life times worth of angst and self hates comes down to this

all the balls in the air and the bills paid on time

is this what mattered most?

Is this what I've been waiting for?



Happy once so foreign now finds itself tangible

But the minds eye is shooting sideways glances

and everything on a timeline

and everything good is inevitable to be to good to be true

so how long do we have together this time?



I curse my practicality,

That's what us pessimists like to call it

when we choose to be easy on ourselves.

To be ignorant

To be blissful,

but I wouldn't be caught dead foolish.



Never good enough

always pushing

never satisfied

always demanding.

I have all the makings of a worst enemy

and the target acquired always seems to be myself.