the moment you realize your age
is not a number but a consistency
a constant reminder of all the things you've done
sometimes detached from all the things you've said

all the girls you didn't talk to
all the opportunities you passed on
thinking there'll be a better one along the way
a picture frozen in a mirror
with slight changes to your past faces
though ultimately the same boyish look
improved with the occasional ****** hair

it's the halo that hovers above you
to force comparisons with the more successful people your age
who settle into marriages
just as they settle into careers
who are in second or third or even fourth homes removed from their parents’ house
who can complain about all these “adult” responsibilities
as their eyes blaze with the thrill of being young

it’s falling into the middle of the ocean
without arms or legs
and knowing this single breath
may need to be held longer than you’d like

it stays with you like weather to an assigned season
a painting that can be examined for flaws
and surprises you by being perfect
though it’s a perfection everyone but you can see
and you should accept it at face value

it’s a story that one day can be the end of a joke
finely tuned with the perspective of advanced years

it’s an easy way to feel sorry for yourself
to indulge your insecurities
and dissect the content
of every facet of your character

it's that last day of summer
when back porches and lukewarm beer
are the solace needed

it’s the knowledge that every single yesterday has already left
and you didn’t have time to say goodbye
now there are a million tomorrows
waiting for you to say something