trying too hard to apologize to myself

for wasting time mourning

over all those I didn't achieve

–promised by talents, given by nature

(expected by nurture)–

trapped in a limbo

a wasteland in-between

>numb<

overwhelmed by the unspeakable horror 

of those gigantic could-be lives

dazzled by the light of million starts

–so easy to get fooled by mere reflectors–

hitting me, casting innumerable, long, awkward, sublime demon-spawning shadows

of my forsaken, deepest dreams