Defecated, or did I say defeated
fated to live this life
barren as loose shoe strings
fraying a little at the ends.
Like a torn T-shirt
I am covered in holes and stains
splotches that just don’t
seem to go away.
Defeated in the mere inches I take
or the hearts that I break

but the only heart I break is my own.
How to pick up the pieces
when I am
piece-less
peaceless, no peace here.
So all I do is clench and worry
and hope that one day defeat
might become a feat
that can actually go somewhere
move someplace out of reach
as I seem to speak
of dreams unaccomplished and maimed
of dreams inferred striking infrared filters
that whisper mere fragments
of my name.