I Hate This Piece

These are the mornings that annoy me,
And these are the faults that I cannot help but see,
This is what hinders me,
And this is what makes me want to scream.
I see the mistakes I have made and the choices that I failed,
I over analyze my actions and replay them in my head,
And I only see disappointment in my reflection in the mirror.
I look further for an understanding and some forgiveness,
But all I find is a further desire to give up.
Because I am not perfect,
And I cannot be,
And this is something that frustrates me.
I want to move through life without a mistake,
And I want to know a life without regret,
I wish that I had the ability and drive to execute,
A life that I am proud to be a part of.
But every day I wake I am disappointed in myself,
And for every mistake I make I chastise myself.
It is reflexive and ingrained,
And it is something I cannot seem to untrain.
I have taught self hate for so many years,
That what I love about myself is no longer clear.
I cannot seem to move past the self criticism,
And I cannot seem to see past my human faults.
There is something inside of me that won’t let go,
Of the judgement that I place on my every action,
And the analysis I conduct with every thought,
Because I almost know myself too well —
I know what my motivation is,
And I know why I am making mistakes,
I know that I am only human,
But I know that I have inhumane standards.
Yet there is something inside of my that will not accept this,
It is that something that makes me hate,
And it is that something makes me restless,
And something that makes writing this impossible,
Something that will not allow me to speak the truth,
And something that will not let me admit that I am avoiding the truth,
Because it might be too much for me to bear,
And I doubt that I am strong enough to overcome,
And if I speak the truth then something in the end must be done.
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