i have not quite learned,
to love,
or lose,
or myself

"these will be the best years of your life"
echo in my mind
over the sounds of my gasps
for air, in between tears-

sometimes from laughter,
sometimes,
more often, from loss,
or perspective of it.

pretending
"yes i love it"
"yes i'm having a good time"
is not convincing
me
the only person,
important in my own happiness;
the hero of my emotions

learning to say no, stop, over now
learning to contain
a shout, a judge, a scream
not quite, but a little bit

the [best] two years of my life
have now so suddenly received
a forecast of much rain and clouds
always on the brink of hail.