something to no one
you fed me honey-coated poison
(venom labeled LOVE)
trading kisses for bruises
and stealing Neverland
how did my youth taste
when you guzzled it like cheap whiskey
burning my innocence to the ground?
if you aren’t something
then you are nothing
you told me
and I was never
my eyes did not shine with galaxies
my voice didn’t move nations
and when I sang
the world did not fall silent
my bloodied hands incapable of weaving dreams
Not old enough to be so twisted
so i’m young?
kind of you to remember that now
whispering behind hands given
casting sideways glances
like broken is contagious
they carved a thousand names
into my skin
i collected every curse
filling in the gaps of a stolen childhood
i am something
but why is it not enough?
When I am Old.
So I'm young. Unfortunately this doesn't make me deserving of any awards, since merely being young is simple and takes no effort (it's living life, and not just being in a state of youth, that counts for something). But I wonder; why don't our good seniors get awarded? If I were one I'd appreciate some kind of certificate of accomplishment to put on my wall: "Well done, you made it," sort of thing. Perhaps the reason no one manufactures these encouraging certificates is that most folks over a certain age are too busy tring to conceal the fact that they are, in fact, not young. Personally, I'm going to enjoy my old age by drinking tea and writing all day; and I'd like to do it with the comfort of a certificate of accomplishment hanging near and cheering me on.
The Crow’s Feet Are Upon Me, But They’re Mostly Due To Smiles.
Whatever floats your boat my dears.
Whatever kills your frowns.
I’m not so much a mother,
But a troop of cleaning clowns;
A live-in butler to these royal dukes and duchesses,
Who like to play under the rug so that it buttresses...
They love to trip me, trick me,
Till I glower. Till I snap.
Till I blazon with evil grin: “It’s time to have your nap!”
No one stays un-wisen-greyed,
Surrounded with such spirit.
But you don’t quite get old either.
Youngness spreads to all those near it.
“In my defense I wasnt supposed to be around this long”
Inhales cigarette smoke
to puff it out and contemplate the question
"what is reincarnation?"
cigarette goes out
relight it with the flames of the burning city
deep inhales turn to coughs.
tears from more than just the impending lung cancer
a shakey breath drawn as the contrast is admired,
how can the sky be so calm in the midst of chaos?
How lucky the gods are to not be down here,
a smile, a wish, a shake of the head,
and a leap of lacking faith
that begs the second part of the question
"And how do I stop it?"
Adulthood is Weird
So I'm young.... ok I'm really not. I wouldn't call myself ancient, but I am definitely not young. I remember when I was a teenager and my Dad was my current age, and I considered that kind of old. Well now I'm that old. I am a grown up, and although I have a career (and a career goal I'm working on), kids of my own, and grown up responsibilities, I still feel unqualified to be an adult. All the same, I am really enjoying this point I am at in my life. It is neat talking to my parents now as an adult child, and it is cool to think that someday I will get to do the same with my kids when they grow up, and it will be interesting to get their perspectives if they wind up sharing the same feelings I currently have about being a grown up. I enjoyed being young, but I have no desire to go back to it. I love where I am now as I continue to pursue my goals, and I look forward to where the future goes as I head there....