As a child, whenever we fall,
we keep standing up,
and eventually we could run

When I was a child and wondered why adults
always held a bottle in one hand,
and a cigarette in the other.
eyebrows furrowed and spoke in a tense, angry way

their tongues were like angry lashes
that whipped and hurt everything in its way
eyes so red you couldn't recognize them
adults, thats what they are

but now i get it
i get why when we grow up
we fall and we don't wish to get up anymore