gleefully staining my mouth bright red with cherry popsicles in a blink i was 10 years old
weaving threads for friendship bracelets and perfecting my signature
i read a book and i was 15, drawing angles of eyeliner and pressing my nose
against the mirror because if i get close enough i might find out who i am
i drank a cup of coffeee and now i'm almost 18 it feels like time is laughing hysterically
in the corner cackling that life is happening to me i forgot how easy
living was supposed to be after i lost friends and secrets i was supposed to keep i'll turn
to see who called my name and i'll be at my graduation wearing a cap and gown and
stole and medallions and cords and tassels standing on the grass next to the
graduating class hot and annoyed barely able to stand in my high heels
without breaking an ankle it will be happening to me and all i will be able
to do is breathe and maybe cry a little for the lost years but i know
there will be many more and at some point i will flip my tassel to the other side and i'll
be 30 i once wrote a poem about who i thought i would be at 30
i didn't have any faith in my ability to love myself and i still don't, but
i've learned how fast time goes speed and lightning and wind rushing in our ears
six years flew by in a single twirl around an empty ballroom i missed the corsage
but saw the pictures the narrative rose into the sky like a balloon i let go of
it slipped from my fist like a shiny string and although i was 17 and mourning
delirious drives i felt like that 5-year-old again standing in my princess dress
staring at the ground where my ice cream fell my dad was already sharing his ice cream
but i still saw the shadow of spilled milk i tripped over the stairs
and found myself writing this poem a weary traveler, a wary teenager, a world turned over
again and again.
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Treblemaker
Jul 28, 2021
That was simply a pleasure to read. Your transitions from one age to another were both jarring and effortless and I had this whole short animation of flipping the tassel and being thirty and tripping over the stairs and being 17. wooahhh
I write because the music of language spoke to me in books and I wanted to make a beautiful noise to answer back ~ Lee Williams.