It doesn't always Happen.
Even though it hardly stays still.

Some don't realize its presence


Some will never see that it's passed


Some seem to have no recollection


It's the unbecoming of a star
The deconstruction of a song.

I wish this sooner on my life, to have been taught
how to talk to girls...
how to deal with things out of my control...
how to be successful with the right morals...
how to put all my pain in all of my poems...
how to appreciate my highs amongst the lows...
how to make decisions with fact, and not a suppose
how to be tickled by the beauty of life, in between my toes...

I just wish someone taught me all of these things long before

Even when
All is said and done,
And I have become
A guardian angel
Over my past self,
Even then,
I have failed.

When I start to regret the past
I have to ask
what does that piece of me mean
is it something best forgot
or a lesson
that turns my dark to green
It might make my dust into stars.

I should not waste my scars.

From her lessons in independence we learnt that everyone leaves,
Abandonment as sure a fact of life
                                                                ­                                            as death.

We learnt that love was transactional,
A currency,
A receipted ***-for-tat tete-a-tete.

At the altar we were shown lies,
In the white dress a million yes’s but the question was never till death.

I could walk through darkness without worry,
I’d never been shown the danger,
Been encouraged to see an enemy in calories but not strangers.

We learnt to lie to avoid bruises,
Wooden spoons used for more than stirring soup,
The salt burning streaks down our faces when the *** boiled over the stove top.

Truths ignored and lies inelegant
We learnt to wield fists with tongues  
Sparring for our lives.
Cautiously awaiting the
whistle pop
truth drop
wished unsaid
upon
impact.