In imagining
my next life
I cannot escape
what came before;
in arguing
on behalf
of deviance from
my prescribed path
I cannot speak of future
without exhaling past;
I drag
my faults forward
into hoped-for
redemption
and am disappointed
that I’m not new
now, that I’m the same
set of regrets and mistakes
I’ve always been,
always will be,
no matter my best intentions,
no matter how hard I try.
Dark Matter 
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