I am proud...

Typed into my BlackBerry during the worst days of Fall 2007, I now think this poem sounds a little too haughty, or perhaps defensive :-) But still it ought to be recorded.

I am proud of my bloodshot eyes, reveal
The nights spent gazing at my notes, bleary
I'm proud of my shrunken skeleton, for it speaks
Of the effort that goes into reaching one's peak.

My lank sparse locks tell of a desperate need
To forget all else in the quest to succeed.
Overgrown fingernails speak of an arcane creed
That saves every cent, curbs impulses of greed.

I'm proud, for I know I'm paving my path
with blood, sweat and tears, so I know it will last.
=======================
This is another one I wrote...This one in Spring 2008.

I fall.
Over the edge and into the abyss.
My first instinct, to claw wildly.
To hold on to any link, however tenuous.
To arrest my bottomless plunge.
But I come up with air, rushing by me.
Air that claws back, whipping me without mercy.
Punishing me for daring to leap.
And in the howling rush, I can hear
Voices of the past that numb me with fear.
Time slows to a stop, then rewinds
I am turning back the clock.
Reversing the tragedy.
At this point, I stopped... it just seemed too dark a poem to continue :-)