Ouroboros

This guilt stains my soul
Like the light of a billion supernovae
In negative;
An ocean of bleach
Won’t shift this blemish.
I could scrub so hard
That I flay the skin from
My pathetic figure
And still it would remain,
Indelible,
Constant,
Unmoving,
A permanent reminder of all the
Failed fresh starts
And empty wells of motivation,
A planet strip-mined to the core
In search of minerals
Long since exhausted.

So why do I still tell myself
“It’ll get better?”
Why do I still insist on
Pushing through,
On finding that which I know to be
Non-existent,
That which I know forever
Taints me irrevocably?

Because it’s all I have left.

You can fuck your Einstein quote,
You can forget your prayers,
I ignore your speeches.
I carry on because I must,
Not in spite of this affliction but
Because of it.
I will keep on scrubbing
Until the skin regrows.
I will keep on mining until
This planet is destroyed,
And then I will find a new one.
None of these starts will be fresh,
But as I haul up the stagnant water
From those wells which reach
To the very centre of the earth,
I shall light a fire
Upon which this life will burn,
And with that fire I shall boil the water,
Purify it,
Consume it,
And those supernovae will coalesce
Into planetary nebulae.

And I will build the universe anew.

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