November 7, 2009
By Megan Duff SILVER, Green Bay, Wisconsin
Megan Duff SILVER, Green Bay, Wisconsin
9 articles 0 photos 3 comments

For the first time we feel
Feeling that is so new
so unlearned, utterly untaught
we are alone in this echoing abyss
of emotion of pain of wonder
we lash out to feel blood
to see the feeling in another
to not suffer alone
we are so breakable in our new homes
in larger bodies housing larger dreams
and eyes that see for once
the things once kept from us
expected to have knowledge of hurt
to touch the scars that do not exist
to remember the times that never happened
because they are happening
the pain is there I feel it
I now recognize him

For the first time we feel
the searing touch of another
the pleasure brought forth
from our bodies who know
from all the other times we lived these lives
without thought we go forth
giving up pieces we never knew we carried
with feeling lighter also comes feeling emptier
with feeling freer also comes feeling lonelier
with feeling connected also comes feeling
like there is no more mystery and no escape
they took you there and you closed your eyes
no matter how slow always too fast
the journey you weren’t present for
is one you can never travel again
and a wound is made
one that will be ripped open again and again
hopefully with more gentle hands

For the first time we feel
the crushing expectations of others
the future once so far away
now too close for comfort
school is a prison
home is a battlefield
your head is a mess
suddenly unprepared suddenly alone
just like hurt and those hot hands
you didn’t know until you crashed
couldn’t know until life was forced
no longer simple or carefree
suddenly life is a plan lined with goals
happiness at the bottom of the list
peers who are flames going out around you
who pull your blood who feel uncontrollably like you do
who want answers to unknown questions
who are hands who are hurt who enter your dreams

For the first time we feel
what everyone has
the path all are forced to take
as bodies go wild and minds open up
we are just wildly spinning tops
flirting with the tables edge
set in motion by a different set of hands
feeling the wind on our skin
marveling at the truth hidden
where we never thought to look
and always the edge
that we somehow neglect to see
that we reach too quickly
when the air captures us
when the ground comes up to meet us
when we lie shattered
disoriented among the fragments of our childhood
then we gather ourselves and are finally grown

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