26 is 17
But only more alone.
This time your mom isn’t downstairs cooking,
Your dad isn’t just pulling into the driveway,
And your brother isn’t home for the summer.

26 is thinking that all the pain was worth it
Because it pushed you into his arms
Where you know you’re meant to stay forever.

26 is wishing that you learned your lesson
When you were 17,
When your mothers arms were only a staircase away
And she could have held you
While you found out who you were
And who you wanted to be.

26 is splitting up the record collection,
Asking him if he wants you to bring home boxes from work,
Wondering how you’re going to be able to look at the empty space where his guitars used to be
And continue to breathe.

26 is back to square one.
It’s 17 without the excuse of adolescence.
It’s 17 without a best friend to cry with.
It’s 17 in a lonely apartment that’s only getting lonelier.