The Casuist

I could list the many things I am not,
       spend moments dragging the chains of the things I will never be.

But

What good is it to list the reasons the window’s covered in a thin film of mess?
                            to list the reasons the beetle’s wings don’t vibrate quite as quickly?
                            to list the reasons the zipper gets caught in the rut of the fabric?

Admitting to yourself you’re treading water doesn’t make the effort any less tedious.

So instead I will list the things that I am.

             I often ponder why someone created a number they can’t even name all of  the characters for.
             I often listen to bands I’ve never heard of simply because I get bored with the same eighth notes.

            Sometimes I wish the rain would fall a little heavier to remind me that even the sky cries.
            Sometimes I consider fantasies and the transparencies of faith more fascinating than day-to-day monotony.

            Each day I color code my planner just to depict a stained glass window.
            Each day I pull my socks to my knees to stay warm and then roll them down so my legs don’t feel like mice in a constricted snake’s grasp.

I often acknowledge my strengths and weaknesses each day, but only sometimes.
and that’s  why I’m a walking yes and a standing no.
that’s why I’m flawless.