Narcasistic remorse. Or remorse….or just morse. (August 2, 2014)

I’m having a party.Invite; just one.

Little nervous.Quite anxious.It’s sent out;can’t be undone.

As I wait for my guest,my mind it does roam.

To events,actions,words; a verse of a poem.

it spins like a hamster; round and round.

Searching. Searching. Searching. Answer never found.

My guest is quite rude.I wait, and I wait.

It’s rude to be so terribly late!

My mind still spins and spins. I try to relax.

Drink of water.hands shaking, I take a xanax.

I hate to face reality.But the day has come.

I must face her…me and my party of one.

A tear falls. She has come. I glance in the mirror.

Hideous! Monster! The reflection’s sincere.

If she could go back in time;she might be pretty.

At last it’s begun. My party of pity.

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