For a little bit of unnecessary context for this poem, see yesterday’s post.

As I find myself here again,

Standing still at a desk
That has always been
Slightly the wrong height

Working a job
that has always been
Slightly the wrong fit

At an hour of the night
that has always been
Slightly too late

As I shake off emotions
that have always been
Slightly too comfortable,

I wonder if I am bound
To obsessive repetition that’s
Slightly self-destructive

Or if I’ve embraced a label
That’s started to feel like it fits
Slightly too well.

I did not think it would hurt as much,

Finding myself surrounded
By people who don’t believe
My words are worth respecting

Fighting against people
Who frequently deny
My thoughts are worth hearing

At a point in my life
Where no one believes
My experiences are worth trusting

As I fight against the impulse
To give up trying to prove
My knowledge is worth anything,

To fall back on the same old joke
I used when I didn’t believe
My sanity was worth protecting

Since I can’t seem to stop hoping,
As I do it all over again,
My results will be different.

If it is “insane” to try again,

Hoping for better results
That never materialize
Until I’m worn to nothing

Denying the shattered beliefs
That bring uncertainty and despair
Until I’ve broken to pieces

At a time in the world
That would deny me myself
Until I’ve been remade

As just one more cog
In a featureless machine
Until I can’t find myself,

Then I won’t proudly
Wear that awful label
Until I leave this place,

But I will continue
Endlessly repeating myself
Until it is applied to me