Writing

When I was six I longed to be twenty five

My mother had all these rules

All I wanted was to leave my home

To live on my own

To stay up late

It is a joyous day 

amidst a burdened world.

We cluster around stand mixers like crows

to telephone wire, make holy messes

Do I have a voice?

Bombs are falling constantly on cities

Children are lost to the other side

Meanwhile monsters hide in their mansions

I had a funeral yesterday.

A quick goodbye to

the person closest to me.

I can’t quite recall when she died.

It has been so long

since she was alive.

Why have I held on to

her lifeless body?

Summer heat engulfs

Fireflies darting through oaks

Memories died here

My friends are all getting old

Getting their permit

License

Their own car

Getting boyfriends, girlfriends

Getting jobs