Forever Problems


Every little death

I treasured;

not the dying,

but the resurrection.

There are no poetic words

for the terminal moment.


It is the quiet mourning after,

as I scrub away

the decaying flesh,

to find that smooth, new skin


that dying becomes worthwhile.



it takes longer and longer

these days,

and I wonder,

which time I won’t return;

but that’s a forever problem.

It’s not going away,

no matter how good I feel.


Fresh off another good death.

The fact is,

I’m not sure that I have it in me anymore.

I don’t yearn for that

new self feeling

like I used to.


Fact is,

I’m probably okay

with who I am these days,

enough that I could stay this way;

but that’s a forever problem,

not one I’ll figure out today.


The best I can do,

is the best I can do.

I don’t have to try to fade away.

Just happy for this morning,

I might even smile

and set off on the journey

as I am.


Smooth, clean skin.


or evolution?

I don’t even know,

and I’m not sure

I even want to.


Resurrection is a forever problem,

and I’ve got enough “now” problems

to worry about.

Not sure I’m ready to know

what it’s like to have

no problems at all.



HG – 2020

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