I
when walking was the warmup not the workout
when salad was the appetizer not the entree
when the alarm woke me not the sun
II
when I was young my worries were
insecurities weeping and self-second-guesses
confidence in the logic of working to the bone
III
what is age but the awareness of living askew
being told your existence is wrong
yet in your Twilight not caring
Mother was a
leave it half done
thrive on drama
do that this the other
my way or the highway
se ya later - wait! come here
I could get money for you?
Daddy was a
don’t leave it, finish it
drama-avoiding
get ‘er done: up an at em
you know where you can find sympathy?
always doing showing
independent go your own way
over vanilla beans halved and scraped
whiskey poured slow to the brim
side-eyeing salivating patient lip-smacking
as I walk past again and again
months and now I can’t open the jar
overwhelming is not the more powerful
embellishing, emphatic of whelming
whelming is the worser thing to be
I was today old when I learned all along
I have been wrong about my entire existence
slightly more than half my life away
from the Shattering of losing you
of making decisions I second guess
and I’m still lost, that elusive self
dodging around every corner I look
for if you catch her in the quiet
lists and lyrics treading, trudging
through the muck and mire
of a mind ever-tinged by the Breaking
and a youth spent whence
she learnt stillness and hands to herself
you will find her setting with the words
she drew-draws as lines in the sand while
she watches as the waters wash away
every chance took or not