upswing/downswing

Maybe it’s the way I dwell on the superlatives

Catching a glimpse of who I am in hindsight

But what’s the point of my supposed improvement

If I contradict it all when I decide that I’m “alright”?

Don’t tell me imperfect is divine when I know

You only love my impulse until imperfections show

Decadent jets crashing aren’t lavish on the low

And I leave a polarizing impression on everyone I love

As for those I don’t: it’s a tragedy

Because god knows I’m capricious with my care

Ups and downs and tyranny

I can fail to love when my defenses are bare

I’m not an actress, just chronically distressed

Only it’s every other day

If you wake me beneath a bright one

Maybe, for a minute,

With an abundance of patience,

Just a moment, or two,

I can sit still and indulge

And start learning how to love in blue.

- M. Rose