overachievement
is built on
a fear
of failure

petrified
i’ll never reach
the atmospheric bars I’ve set for myself 

saddled in a cycle of A for effort
and a B for product 
but still not good enough,
C comments
revise

waiting on the next chapter
of life not marked
by red ink
critiques and annotations
on
every
line

I made the grade
but the grade made
a success story
built on lies, or half truths

like the success I’ve achieved
isn’t mine
then to whom does it belong?

throngs of supporters 
applauding and lauding and gawking and talking

you’re destined for excellence!

am I? nice try

one day you’ll be a preacher
a leader
a senator
a CEO business owner

a loner
to be more precise

propping people upon pedestals
picking praise per performance 

ignoring the agony of having to be 
perfect

if it ain’t great I grate
if it ain’t right it might take
the whole night to set straight 

the subpar person can’t relate 
they don’t know what it takes 

ask em
on a scale of 1 to 10, where’s “good”?

“about an 8” they’ll say

how Sway?!? uncaged inner Kanye

so this peon
knows the secrets of the beyond
and all the things that await me afar
then proceeds to set my bar
at an 8

which to me is really a 4
barely satisfactory

some are comfortable
sleeping on the bare floor
good for practicing back against
the wall

as for me
I prefer down comforters and duvet
atop pillow top memory foam

and therein lies the problem 
delusions of grandeur hamper
my ability to find solutions to the shit

i’m not doin
a failure to show and prove
proficiency for people’s champin

if only the headcount
matched the thread count
while I’m snoozin

my dreams have dampened 
i slob and sob in my sleep
tears creating a soggy mattress

doth the floor absorb this horror
or can it be my canopy
is no higher than
a can of peas

if green giant gets on his knees
does than mean he’s wilted
and we’ll get him for free?
imperfections

will I always awake with my face
in a puddle of muddled memories 
about how great i was
and how much greater i was
supposed to be 

when I was younger
my face stayed on posters
i even keep a few close to me still

as a reminder, a remnant
certainly one of these pictures will 
be placed on my obituary 

in remembrance

your experience may vary
the rich MBA commits suicide
while many without diplomas
show up in new rides 
wheels

the previously homeless now real estate magnates
flipping houses
rolling hills

PhDs perpetually researching
surfing on waves of
grant dispersals and loan payments

i considered a life coach
to help me out with the navigation 
but deep down
i actually abhor advice

hate it
everything they’ll tell me
i’ve heard before

and tried it twice 
so for now
i guess sleeping on the floor
will have to suffice

here lies my life
on a performance palette