Growing Up.

Is that your plan
Doodled in the margins of a notebook
In fifth period, English class?
Lofty goals and sun-kissed dreams
Bursting through
The fading ink of your sloppy scrawl.
You feel invincible,
Your life a jigsaw puzzle,
Waiting to be made whole
On a lazy Sunday afternoon.

I know what you’re thinking.
I can read it in the curve
Of your mouth
As you sneak a glance
While passing a mirror.
I bet it’s nice to feel so brave,
To watch the world
Quiver at your touch.
Fate becomes your little pet,
Nuzzling into the palm of your hand.

But pets die, and mirrors break
Old notebooks get left behind
Sunday noons are ruined by work,
And jigsaw pieces disappear.

 

Giving In.

When you move away,

When you move away from home for the first time,

It feels a little like learning to swim.

The adrenaline kicks in, you find yourself

On top of the world for a while

But mostly it’s just drowning.

Sometimes the days go by in a blur

Of friendly faces and one drink too many.

Always a drink too many.

It creeps in on you when you least expect it -

That longing for home you thought you’d banished

Three margaritas ago.

And when you’re hunched up before your computer,

Drowning in music the screams that will not come,

You finally give up struggling.

The waters swallow you whole

And there’s not a damn thing you can do.