Knot of pain

Two inches above my navel
lies a knot of pain,
identifying itself as
‘promise unfulfilled’.
Under pressure, it divides:
to the left lies ‘envy’,
to the right, ‘regret’.

Two inches above my navel
lies a mark, a target,
the measure of my inadequacy … 
which may be seen as
‘potential unexploited’.

Nothing new here; this is an undated poem I uncovered a few days ago whilst preparing to move to my new apartment. Although I recall writing it, I don’t remember anything about the circumstances.

On the other side of the paper, there’s something relating to a music project I was working on, which suggests that the poem was written in the late 1990s.

The knot is no longer there.

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