i’ve come to terms
certain realities
will never form from the aether
magically around me:

that six pack
is going to have to be
nestled firmly
in padding

those cheater glasses
aren’t temporary
but
a necessity

there won’t be
a magical day
where i catch my reflection
and smile

there won’t be
a nobel laureate tag
next to my name
on covers

i won’t see
my latest release
on a new york times
best seller listing

but i am
who i am
and that is probably
just about enough

i may not be
the best at things
but i am the best
i can be at them

my scars
tell a story
no one else
can claim

and my words
are mine
my flaws
are my own

and that is probably enough
for one fleeting light
in a world
of permanent fixtures.