twenty three

Don't tell me things will be okay; 

I won't believe you.

I am sorry for my constant skepticism 

Of every blessing, 

But by the time I figure out how to treasure a moment,

It is gone. 

That's why the soundtrack to my life is entitled "brevity"

And they will throw my body in the ground with a "big hoorah"--

The only time I really appreciate things is afterwards. 

By the time I learned to listen to my mom

She drifted away,

And by drifting away I don't mean getting sick,

I mean staying sick,

Drifting in and out of mental and physical stability

And keeping her daughter and her husband on their toes

Because accidents happen,

And August 14th must have been one of them. 

She can't help it.

I guess I can help it if I cry or not, though,

So I must choose to hold in the emotion 

For a while longer while the saltwater

Stings in my mangled facade. 

I was determined to stop being angsty

And dramatic with my poetry

And my life in general,

But after a while sorrows catch up with you 

And these happened to crash land

Now. 

I am supposed to be building sandcastles,

Instead I build endurance as the tide rolls in,

While she's practically being carried across the beach,

Smiling and stumbling over her own feet

To just smell the waves,

She tells me where to find a beach towel

And i can't understand a single sentence she pieces together,

She doesn't understand that my dad is trying his hardest,

Working so hard,

Fixing her plate before his,

Helping her to the car and down the stairs,

Wrestling the pain away from her,

She doesn't understand why I am so tired all of a sudden,

She doesn't understand how I look at her and feel so deeply sad;

I don't understand either. 

I don't  understand any of it.

I am far from home tonight.