day eighty-three: the ruiner.

it's funny how

some of the best things

in my life

were ruined by others

but now,

as i've aged

i've become

the ruiner

i watch the movies

i read the books

i see what "love" is

and i know

that i've had

many chances

to "have" this type of

affection

but i've become the ruiner.

i've taken bloody handprints

to Mona Lisa's smile

and i've let children color

on ceiling of the Sistine Chapel

only it's not even that

my sins

are that innocent and

forgivable

i've become the ruiner

of my own happiness

and i hate myself for it

with a hatred as strong

as the hunger that kills it

so, thanks self

for royally screwing up

again and again

i'd hate to see how happy i might be

if i hadn't ruined it all

with my own hands.