The Accidents of An Anarchist

I had many accidents in these lives of mine, these lives I lead.

I had many, many chances to make this up to you but I just got so bored doing so---

so very, very bored in trying to make you a better version of what I thought [was best]

And then we got very good at lying,

as liars often do,

better and best,

until they make their 620th mistake and forget a strand of hair in the shower

And then the complacency and lust takes it from here---

and like in a gorgeous undertow,

we just spread our arms like snow angels and pretended that we were immortal,

because immortality excuses the cognizance of bad behavior,

doesn't it?