Who's fault but my own that my teeth
are sharp
even the ones that shouldn't be
and I cut my tounge when I drink
and yet I let myself over eat

Who's fault but my own that my shape
discourages me
Who's fault but my own when my shape
is usually due to my own activity
or inactivity
Am I the type who only has time to type? why?

Who's fault but my own that I step
to find my foot sinks too heavily into the ground
Who's fault but my own that I fell
and a broken stick snapped in my leg
Who's fault but my own that in nights unremembered
I lost clothes to New England swamps
On an icy winter night

Who's fault but my own that my shell
and my reflection
mearly reflect what is on my mind
Who's fault but my own that my mind
is still hung up on things that no longer matter

Who's fault but my own that I believe
in no causes
most everything that is evangelized
is founded in hypocricy
and because I say that
others must remind me
that someone loves me

Who's fault but my own that summer
has ended
and yet I am no better or happier than I was last winter

Who's fault but my own that I freed myself
from needing to work jobs I hate
only to become complacent
and stop learning

Who's fault but my own that daylight is breaking
and I have been lying awake
stagnent as the night passes
and I inch closer to death

Who's fault but my own that thousands
of people read most things I write
and give me feedback faster than I can ask for it
yet often know not what to do with it

Distractions have done their job
but it is time for me to do mine
and that means doing something
other than writing this line :)