Grey Matter Oeuvre

All my errors and imperfections

All my errors and imperfections
Create threads, wires under my skin.
Each one has tangled,
Drawn up my flesh,
Into a constant cringe.

Every trivial folly or past moment's sin,
Each fault that I still cannot shake,
Hangs from my elbows,
Clings to my heels,
And brings me to tire and to quake.

I strive to evolve, to grow and reach,
While held back by ties and regret.
No ropes bind me,
No one chains me down,
It's just I who cannot forget.

My religion tells me to forgive myself.
Culture hardly has morals to break.
But, something in me,
Of my own obsessions,
Can never accept a mistake.

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