Absolution ^[1]

when the night winds down beside you,
indifferently, lethargically, like
a cat
and the wonderance pesters you
like a cat
to backtrack
the day’s density,
be it complex or mundane, dense nonetheless,
and makes you replay
every interaction
flip-book style
showing how
your consonants cut
when it should have glided, how your eyes
scoured
when it ought to have gleamed, and how
last night
you said you’d change,
how you’d vowed
to be less harsh
to mother, friend, and cat,
to everyone, really,
but especially
to yourself,
and how,
regrettably,
you’d broken that vow
today
again,

remember that
you can try
     again
tomorrow.
and you can keep trying
again
         and again
            and again.

– Shawn Rampaul

---

^[1] “There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution.”

— Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray