I am done wasting my time.
I am done waiting for
One wondrous moment to whisk me away
I am done missing trains and wearing watches.
Because Time is melting around my hands
And the past is the flame that burns my fingertips
I look back at my childhood
At the sunburned kickball games
At the sticky red juice dripping off my face
At the cut and paste and three legged race
I see light and kind and winding down
And the same way we see pictures
Of a ‘53 Corvette and pretty girls in poodle skirts
We forget that those poodle skirts
“Belonged in the kitchen”
We mangle our memory
Beyond recognition
Until Thorns become pyramids and we were all royalty
And the cycle continues
Because we refuse to leave this mirage behind
Where malice looks like mischief
And the monsters we fought were imaginary
Our playgrounds become desks become offices
and we are ready for battle, always.
It will always get harder,
Faster stronger angrier scarier
By Accepting the fact that things may get hard
We end up breaking out, becoming soft
When we feel pain we clench it
We grab it and close our fists until
Our knuckles are white and our lips are blue
And the pain is still there
We all need to learn
To
Let
Go...
I knew a girl who didn’t let go,
Her lips were sapphire while her knuckles were snow
Even if she was in her favorite place with her favorite people
Because the smallest things would crawl inside her
And build a home out of insecurity and nerves made
Of telephone wires and Scotch Tape
That girl has grown up.
Now cynicism is not a schism
And her problems are not a prison
She entwines her mind with
All that rolls by
Because she has let go.
We are all a mixture of now and then and who and when
But we cannot deny ourselves the gift of the present
It is up to you to switch the lens,
Clean the glass and wash your hands.
Allow yourself to build a new home within you
Where each moment is a playground and a battlefield
You cannot just lay there clenched up
Whimpering and whining and wishing you were somewhere else, someone else, something else
Life is inhale and exhale
And long lines in retail
And waving at children who smile like the sun.
Life is a seed that is watered by strange
Life is dancing at weddings while
Your parents fight in the bathroom
Life is scraped knees and long nights
And the sea breeze and termites
My lips change colors and my war paint is on
And sometimes the hands of the clock make fists

But I am done wasting time.