Acquiescence
Acquiescence
...to my imperfection.
I am broken,
or at least cracked
and a little bit frayed
around the edges.
I hate being this way,
not able to fix myself,
not able to figure it out,
and not any different
from the imperfection
all around me.
I apologize,
aware I've written
this same poem
many times before.
And yet every time
I revisit my brokenness,
I inch just a bit closer
to some kind of acceptance.
Existence really is an imperfect tense
that never becomes a present.
~ Friedrich Nietzsche
