Inventory

What have I done?

What have I learned?

What have I broken?

What have I burned?

How have I landed here so bruised?

There’s nothing more to do.

There’s no one left to use.

Even if there was, I could not choose.

Each of you is borrowed, also blue.

My little poison’s slipping, too.

American, I can’t refuse.

I’ll have another, here’s to you.

You who held me,

You who felt me,

You who changed me,

Who enraged me.

I forgive you. I forgive me.

I love and love and love

And I wouldn’t change a thing.

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