Author Information
All Grown Up
I have found
Why I will never be able
To figure it out.
My formative years -
No not those -
Were primarily happy
Optimistic
Joyous.
I sang songs to stairwells
And half-imagined
The soccer star with amazing dimples
Or, even better,
The shy stunning redhead
Who I thought was way out of my league
Sitting there smiling
At my equally half-imagined
Irressistable charm
Truth be told
I didn't stop singing
When I was young enough
To wonder about it
For in that wonder
Is not merely the beauty of youth
But the irreplaceable ability
To interpret yourself.
Eventually -
That's eventually in retrospect
In actuality it happens
With imperceptable suddenness -
You forget how to
Percieve yourself
Although some allow
A stranger and a leather couch
To take up the task for them
The ills caused upon you
Or by you, a line oft blurred
Pile up
And affect your chracter
Until you've no fucking idea
Why you're not who you think you are
And fall short of who you ought to be
Going back won't fix it
(That never does anyway)
The negatives are ingrained
Like a bad tell you can't get rid of
Or won't let go of
Because it's a part of you
It is always more difficult
To get rid of a part of you
Than it is to add
No matter how wrong.
