Today I feel twelve.
Awkward and unsure, fearful and excited;
Every moment's allure is somehow uninvited.
I don't want to be here, but I don't want to be there.
In search of my ideal self.

Today I feel twenty.
Missing my old friends, traveling to new places;
Old familiarity ends where new ambiguity replaces.
In search of great distraction, finding meager satisfaction.
One in a crowd of plenty.

Today I feel thirty-three.
Just a career minded manic with a clutch full of mini mes.
Where time lost causes panic and everyone little hates peas.
Problem paychecks, pets and pals; Forbidden love ends in broken vows.
I offer no apology.

Today I am forty.
Monotony and misogyny have worn my grain to grit.
An apathetic monopoly on a board game made of sh*t.
Unforgiving past mistakes stealing peace which present makes.
I will be free.

Sometimes when you read a verse
The words hit your soul hard
They make you wonder all night
“How can someone fabricate such a piece of art?”

The feeling each syllable holds
Gets carved into your heart
Words inspiring you to weave some of your own
Which might cause the ordinary populace to feel your warmth

With excitement flooding
You pick the quill only to wonder
Would your quill succeed in
Re-creating the magic
You recently witnessed?

You drop the quill
Not because of self-doubt
But because you just know
That some magic tricks only belong
With svelte magicians
And sometimes you yield sweet joy
In being touched by others
Just witnessing greatness…

If you weren't here to hold my hand
If you weren't around to help me understand
I'd wander, an empty vessel, through this so-called equilibrium
I would know this place as dark and lifeless
Where is beauty without you to name it?
Without us there, side by side, to claim it?
I can't find the limit if you're not on my wavelength
I just can't dare myself to dare
Without my soul.

I need you to know
Before you enter this strange, new section
They have built for you
That I am at your feet, far below your calves,
Licking the ground
You stand on.
Always
Worshiping you
(Especially from a far).

Although I would sell my cells to be closer
I must remain within the clouds
Until next Spring.
And it is there, we will finally blossom, again and again.

Until they force us to return to our caves
Until we must go back, my friend.