There are many ways to die

It takes two hands to clap

and you’re the bullet in the barrel of the gun; you’re the sharpened blade of the dagger; you’re the poison in the drink. But I’m the one pulling the trigger, pressing the cool steel to my throat, raising the glass to my mouth.

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Palingenesis

Rebirth.

Sloughing off the layers of my former self,

I rise from the ashes,

Spread my wings,

Each feather a red-gold tongue

Proclaiming new beginnings.

There is irony embedded even within this triumphant proclamation, however-

Like the phoenix,

Am I doomed to always make the same mistakes?