Easily unsettled

Easily unsettled

Even after so long,

Surviving on half chances

The fragile ego

Is a masochist.

Pushing at boundaries,

Expanding its influence

Whilst dragging its feet.

For fear of slipping

Between the cracks.

Puffing out its chest,

Bloating its domain

As it defends against

The wilder excess

Of its eccentric side.

Wobbling precariously,

When held to account

By the fractious voice

Of its inner demon.

The doubting Thomas

That has burdened

Its passage,

Hampered its growth

And despoiled any

Pleasure it may have gleaned,

From any success

In the progress

It was charged to make,

Over the course of life.

Pulling the rug from under

Too many times

To be coincidence.

Self-defeated,

Sabotage can become

An art form.

And even as the voices

Gently chatter,

The call to fail

Is still a conversation

With a point to prove.

It can still inflict

A poisoned barb

With potent accuracy,

Make a sacrificial killing.

With no need at all

For blood to be spilled,

It drains courage from the soul.

And in the autumn

Of the years,

When many lessons

Have been learned,

And living should be easy,

The ego may shy away

From the struggle

To confront

This tiresome combination.

As, reckless articulation

Rails, against the stultifying

Suffocation

Of its own self-critical,

Still fanatical,

Mirror image.

Until the damage

Together they may impart,

Leaves its mark,

Forever,

On the lonely heart.