why i'm not so great anymore.

sometimes
the only air i get
is from the puffs i take
on a cigarette.
i don't breath anymore.
everything is too uptight.
i have no elbow room.
there used to be a time when
if things weren't perfect,
i had a little time to fix them.
now,
if something isn't right,
it appears exhagerated
and it stands out and apart
from everything else,
making everything that once seemed good,
look half assed.
making it something like
an eyesore...
bloody.
messy.
not right.
uncomfortable.

there is nothing i can do about it.
it's too late.
pressure has cornered me
and left me unable to move.
let alone stretch,
try something different,
or tweak.
experiment.
everyone's eyes see only that,
the one thing that isn't perfect.
the one thing that stands out,
and makes this impossible to enjoy.
once this was my time to play.
now every last detail
is scrutinized
put under a microscope,
and examined.
pointed out,
and
used as an example
of why i'm not so great
anymore.
why it was probably just a hoax,
a mistake that i was a success anyway.
and in fact,
typical that i even got so lucky.

people love to talk.
they love to criticize.
they speculate,
congregate
and exaggerate
what went wrong,
instead of trying to understand
that maybe there's nothing wrong at all...
maybe it's a minor setback
that under less critical eyes
would have just been considered a learning experience,
to make me do something even better
in the future.
but i don't have that luxury anymore.