call me thief
i confess
beg forgiveness
but deserve no
redemption
because
i know
my life consists of
stolen objects
omitted truths
little white lies
paper trails
giving up
my secret reign of
Getting Away With It
my doctors tell me
i have a problem
impulses need to be curbed
behaviors halted
there is no cure
for my particular
ailment
my disease
is pathological
socially unacceptable
and hardwired
all i have to do,
they prescribe,
is stop
easy
like stop thinking
stop moving
stop remembering
stop feeling
they say:
just ask permission.
at 30 years old
i still have to ask permission
because i never learned how
apparently
nobody cares
that on the couch
it all makes sense
5 year old shoplifter
turned teenage klepto
turned scavenger of all opportunities
stealing is stealing
is stealing
thief is thief is thief
age, circumstances, chemistry:
excuses.
when i give in
to get what i want
people get hurt
nothing i can do
nothing i can say
will solve
this equation of shame
surprisingly
my prognosis is fine
just dont do it again
so i am resigned
the thing about done, however
is that it remains done, forever
too little too late, says i
my sentence
the bottom line
marred conscience
reputation maligned
while im not doing what i did
to reverse my integrity
i am just devastated
justly
in the meantime