Knowing myself usually feels like the consolation prize

of watching your team lose,
then knowing they lost,
when you told everybody in the bar
in your hometown that they would, 
and they didn't believe you, didn't want to believe you,
heckled you even,
and the burning desire to prove them wrong
dug fault lines in your brow,
the suspense was a dimensional imbalance
and overshadowed the outcome of the game
so that seeing the end felt like swallowing
a mouthful of moist white bread.