That's a beautifully odd name
What does it mean?
It means I was born
For the simple reasons
No one understands

you say you can’t say beautiful things, but you do—
yet they’re leaving me hurt, and broken and confused.
in loving the way you hold me after it’s defused
is like some *******’s fantasy; i see the beauty
in “modesty:”

modesty | ˈmɒdɪsti | noun [mass noun]
your praise for my self-hatred.

you say you can’t make beautiful things, but you will.
your art is a luxury most can’t define
except when they’ve been through the same,
but they haven’t, so they lie! and pretending
is easier than admitting they want out,
but i could never do that to you.

you say you can’t do beautiful things, but you could.
they say actions are louder than words, and
you claim you’re bound to a chair.
“with wheels?”
“no, they’re braked.”
i guess your arms don’t work either, because
when I ask if maybe I could hold your hand
so that I can stand, you use them
to push me away.

you say you can’t say beautiful things, but you do—
because I think you broke me, too,
as someone else did to you.

Here I am
Sitting at a simple desk
With a simple light
And a simple book next to me

The bookmark is sticking out on page 10
And in order to move it further
I will have to read
I will have to work
I will have to put my mind to it

Excuses

But life is the same
I feel like that bookmark
Someone has to move me
But doesn’t put their mind to it

I am next to that person
On their simple desk
Under their simple light
Located in a simple book

Why am I left there
Stranded between words
A complete standstill
Because of someone else’s excuses

i don't know anything
but i'm young
i have an excuse

you're older
you say you know better
but you know nothing
what's your excuse?

you say you know me better
but if you really did
then you'd never want to see me again

see, i don't know anything
because i'm young
so just excuse all of the above
i just told you my excuse

or so everyone says
when they justify what i do
what other young people do
then turn around and fault us for being young

i don't know if i like it
if i'm supposed to feel relieved or insulted
sometimes both

you see, there's the kind, comforting "you're young, you'll learn"

the exasperated, tired-of-you "oh my god, you're young"

the condescending, i-know-better-than-you "you're so young"

the i-wish-i-was-you, "i can't believe how young you are"

the unsolicited, let-me-give-you-some-advice "you're young right now"

and then the hesitant, i'm-not-qualified-for-this-and-i'm-bullshitting "you're young...you know..."

i might have missed some
let me know
i just know that ageism is a real plague to our society
it's time things change







Hahahaha I'm kidding. Maybe. Not really.

Call me young.
I am.
There's nothing I can do about it.
I'm going to stay young for as long as I am young.
What good comes out of growing up too fast?
So call me young.
Until I'm not.

I will use it as an excuse for as long as I can.

Why do I feel the need to explain myself to myself
Using preloaded excuses from myself for myself then toward myself
Feels impossible to keep myself safe from myself
In the attempts to escape myself I've lost myself
What's it going to take to save myself from myself?
The endless battle with my mental health, fighting myself despite myself
Do I even know myself well enough to know if I should save myself?
Why, at times, do I want to be someone else?
These are the things I ask myself...
...I tell myself to keep it too yourself

©2023