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I don't know...I was feeling hopeless and nostalgic at the same time. |
Words reel in carefully Afraid too much—speed, force, time— Will break the line. Looking back on the lasting The last thing The memories All you’ve worried about— The questionable tastes, the made-up rebellions— All has ended well. The sheer shock of normality Wakes the sleeping, spell casts the breathing. They’re all okay now. They’ve got it together. Hair receding, lines forging their way, Crinkling into tinkered skin slowly— Another five and the landscape will hardly look the same. But there is always something familiar. A glint not as aged, The way the light hangs, Wavers—falls— It will take you back Words pasted together, images stuck shut Conglomerations are rudimentary Simplistic notions lay down The law of all to come after. What shapes the masses Coming forth unmarked Then molded, changing, cracking, Withering away— Increasingly obstinate yet Ever transforming. Shadows of statues Intermingling and coping We’re seen as this: The teachers were wrong They got it backwards… Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe they knew all along The truth of age, Of days—of balloons in one breath And death in the next. |