i can tie my shoes
all by myself
am i all grown up yet?

i ate a whole subway sandwich
without ever putting it in the fridge
am i all grown up yet?

i cried on the bathroom floor
at my first party
am i all grown up yet?

i held the pieces of my heart
in my hands
am i all grown up yet?

i wish i was a kid again
not knowing how to tie my shoes,
and taking three days to finish a sandwich.
going to parties that still served fruit punch
and believing in true loves kiss.

i think that means i'm all grown up, now.

the way you love
says a lot about you

but the way you break
says a lot about where you came from

it's been over a year since I left. a year can be a long time, no?
it's been a year since we went our separate ways.
a year since those words.

"we won't be able to see each other much,
and I don't want to hold you back."

all I saw was you being afraid of commitment,
or you being afraid of potentially getting hurt while I moved ahead.
I wish the end was as simple as it was when we were together.
but you know you were a ****, right? you don't tell someone those words
right before she steps on stage.

but I ****** it up. pretended it was fine.
you know you shouldn't have shown up at my graduation too, right?
gave me too much of that **** hope right there.
all you did was stay for a few pictures, and we were right back to square one.
you and I. not together, but not not together.

we stopped talking when the school year started.
but boy were your words ever wrong.
we saw each other every week. every ******* week.
and we did stupid things, to try and one-up the other,
to show we were moving on.

but then you crossed the line.

out of everyone to date, my sister's best friend?
and after that fizzled out, you used her to talk to me again.
and we were back to square one. you and I. again.
and so to break the cycle, I just cut you off.
six months passed, just like that. it was a year since,
and I thought I was ready to move on.

until I showed up at a new job, some familiar faces but a fresh start.
that was, until I saw you there again. as my colleague.
for a year.

"we can't see each other as much anymore." *******.
it's year two, and I still can't get rid of you.

she’s the skyscraper
they look up to;
she’s the church
that holds abode.
her hazel eyes
had witnessed
countless storms
and she’s in ruins
but nobody knows.

time.
what is it really?
is it really just a ticking of a clock,
an indication of the day?
is it really just a reminder,
something to be taken for granted?
does it move ever too quickly,
or too slowly?

what is time?
is it a sound telling us
when to start,
when to end?

no.

time is all of these,
yet none of these
all at once.

time is ever-changing,
it moves,
breathes,
flows like the wind.

time is a boat,
taking us in for a ride,
floating on, ever slowly,
on the water called life.

time is a conductor of music,
telling us when to start, when to end,
when to move more quickly,
when to start again.

time is a rare diamond,
every second as precious
as a single star
in the night sky.

time brings change.
it shows us, ever so slowly,
how to live life,
how quickly to move,
how much we change
over such a short period of it.

time is essential,
without it, where would we be?
we wouldn’t change,
we wouldn’t age,
we wouldn’t move faster, slower—
we wouldn’t be pressured,
we wouldn’t really be living.

so what is time?
it is all,
yet also none of these,

all at once.

your love will not wither
for your soul
emanates warmth
and a little bit of drizzle.
memoirs never cease
to tickle every bit of me —
for you are the goddess
i adore and worship;
and i would never dare
disobey.