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If you're hurt, let it hurt today.
Cry over silly reasons.
Hold your breath for a while.
Then, only then, you'll be able to let go.
At 0 one sees the universe in the womb
From the stars above to the ancient tombs
Eating what mother finds best for us both
Everyone hasn't met you, yet you still bring hope

From 1 to 5, you learn to survive
Stay away from that stove! Don't run with that knife!
Mommy seems tired and daddy always plays
But just say the magical words and you'll always have your way

From 6 to 10, everything is sudden
You start school; you try to be cool
You're no longer allowed to get your clothes muddied
And you won't always need mommy when you go to the pool

From 11 to 12 you start fearing high school
Final years in primary, getting closer to your destiny
You start seeing crushes, as you drool
And wonder what's so cool about that word you learnt "******"


13, standalone, a bridge between know it all and human
Running around before the arcade closes to join your legion
Pimples all around, hair growth is profound
You seem a quiet kid, yet around crowds you become loud
Everybody judges you, and your crush won't play your games
You seem too deep into school, don't bunk? You must be lame!


14-16, From the bitter to the "sweet" 16
Depending who you ask, it's the best years of your life
Though many say that about your 20s
Missed an opportunity? There'll be plenty.
Comfortable being uncool, you're just a teen
You don't need others' opinions or their strife

17 to 18, from youth to young adult
You start hating your friend group, it's all their fault!
Why were you a blabbermouth? Keep your words in the vault!
Slow to speak to a crush, but overexposing like a bolt
Everyone already applied. Should I take a gap year?
Nobody is saying goodbye. Why am I in tears?

19. Might as well not even be a teen
Your back hurts, your spleen,
Uni said No, and college is pricy
I'm playing with my future. This is getting dicey.

20, never smoked, drank or kissed
Everything here seems amiss
College is for adults yet this feels like extended high school
Lecturers complain students flirt with them, students complain lecturers are on them
Who's lying? Who's right? Why does that one kid always wanna fight?

21, almost there, special year, conquering fears
Grandma died? I might have to repeat?
Passed the module but granny passed away
There's still so much I wanted to say
This isn't about me, I have to get payed
Too much is on the line. I'll get off my seat and wipe my tears
21! You're an adult now!


22-24, Graduated, got a job, I wouldn't know much about this field
Many say you grow into it, others say you never yield
Alcohol still tastes bitter, a high school crush keeps in contact?
Maybe I truly am better off. Lost friends and family, but I'm still intact


25, the frontal lobe developed
My ideas have finally enveloped
Many at this age are married, have kids, even grandkids
You sit at home, can't afford your own, you can't open the mayo jar's lid

It is amusing to consider that this is regarded as a quarter of your existence.
everything changed, and you stayed persistent
Birthdays don't matter anymore and you can do whatever
But you're old now? And can't chase childish endeavours.

Run it back. Where did we get lost?
How much would it cost to do it all over again?
To apologize and hug that friend
Tell that dead relative that you're sorry
Tell everyone your story
Live a little, once more
A poem that came to me a while back, actually writing it turned into something a lot longer and jumbled than expected.


As I grow up I plan to make a sequel to it. I hope to stay as motivated to see it through.
 Aug 9 Falling Up
Kim
Anyone can rhyme
Or hum a melody
But to lay your guts out on the table
For everyone to see
That’s what art is
That’s the soul
That's hunger, pain, and glory
As the artist tells their story
Living your truth
And telling it straight
Is what sets some apart
The secret of the greats
Stop fumbling with that metre
Don’t fret over the rhyme
Pour your soul onto the paper
Pull the tears from our eyes
thought that it
would get so much
better

but next year
showed up,

and i'm stuck
in the same place

floating down
the same river,

waiting for things
to change.

i'm stuck
with the same
thoughts,

same memories,
same feelings
and feeling

oh so lost.

i can't change
who i am,

i can't forget
the past

but i can try
to move on,

because we both
know i can't be

your favorite
song.

a final repeat
before love comes
undone

and i stop this
cassette and
finally

move on.
Morning drops like a parachute,
circumnavigating
the irrational things within her.

She drew the grim cartwheel
--crayoned images of kids in closets,
and blackens them into
illustrations of war.

She sleeps on bleak days
with young cameras,
Lucy under the tongue,
rosaries at the border
feel like pins and needles
to an adrenaline sorceress
in giallo approach,
her eye in a labyrinth,
the eye she lost in the Crusades,
filming streets below
the color of dark Roman wine.

It's a staring contest,
waiting on rooftops
in stages of collapse,
there she lives or dies
at the dividing line with the grave.
I like being alone.
That’s how I knew you were different.
For the first time ever I craved someone else’s company more than my own.
 Jan 2 Falling Up
lua
there was a moment in time
when death sat beside me on a park bench
and he had rested his hand on the gap between us

i,

too,

rested my hand there
and brushed my fingers against his

and for a chaste moment
i savoured the warmth of his skin
and intertwined my hand with his

but he stood up

and left

and maybe he knew,

it was for the better.
it was the right option
 Jan 1 Falling Up
Aseel
I don’t want to be a princess.
I prefer to be a wall
or a shoulder
that some one can lean on
I don’t want to be spoiled
I want to
fight
Get dirt on my clothes
Clean them
search more
fail more
know more
see everything
Try everything
I want to share the road
With some one
Running not carried
I want to look behind
And see MY footprints.
I want to be free
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