Undeniably

Whatever stops me
is right here
underneath my chest
undeniably
holding a grudge
unidentified
the ghost of failures past
neutered, cold, bitter,
judging post factum
and a priori
everything around him

befriending him
would mean
something
to me
not to him

in the end
i'm a host
to a ghost
in the city of daggers
with a decade
behind my shoulders
folded or rather crumpled
so good to know
so good to not forget
so good
so sad
so him
so me

XIX century gravure by Gustav Dore