am I proud of who I've become

or do I disappoint my past self

the one I shelved,

the stone I sanded down

to this polished turd

til the shape of me fed into the river

 

is this what drowning looks like?

face down in the toilet bowl

big brother forcing your head

waterboarded by booze in breast milk

 

brown-noser, suck-up,

this is what it's like to live

bullied by yourself, berated

is this who I was always fated

to be?

 

do I aim to please a child

or am I the child? is everyone still

just a child aiming to please?

 

finding triumph in every toilet flush

until I can meet my own eyes

and say goodbye to the impossible

porcelain me left in the shitter