does growing up
ever hurt for you?
because for me,
it did.
i wasn't really quite prepared
for losing my shell
losing that child-like innocence ,
and losing .
but i did.
and i did it unrelentingly.
Then i lost enough to make a sea.

In that sea of everything you lost
you see yourself bobbing
on the waves.
gasping for air.
it doesn't come.
and in the sea of things you've lost,
saltwater will fill your lungs
until the sea becomes you.

You purport that you
are always right
with verbiage, loud
designed to confuse
fomenting exasperation
with this constant fight
and sisyphean failure
to change your views.

Please drown with me my love. Tonight we sit once more along the concrete left from undocking tin boats, where the lapping waves fill in the painful silences. Please drown with me, together holding each other for the last time as we are swallowed by the black. Whether it your uncertain love or the freezing water, either way I can’t seem to breathe. Please my love, drown with me tonight.
So I can’t feel you leave tomorrow.

The point of view
Is that it is pointed at you
of which your perspective is askewed
They will point to their point of view
demand that you start anew
Muddy the waters till it looks like a stew
murky and obtuse
gory and smelling of refuse
Lacking scenery the perfect image of destitute.
No refuge just excuse
one right after another
Soon all the words come together
Musty dusty and covered in leather
it all changes right before your eyes
now it looks right because your thruth started to die
now your whole life is just a big ole lie
That is the whole point of this
Your point of view
Is pointed at you
Now they are all the same
Your point of view is a point of view
It just isn't the same

Waking up with the power to acquire the success I ran behind,
My head starts to spin as soon as I hit my bed empty-handed.

I ate my feeling away,
Digested the food but not the emotions.
Punched my stomach, just to stop my hunger.

My state of mind died,
while I counted the calories I consumed.

I lost nine kgs but I'm still sad.
Maybe my body wasn't the problem all along.
Maybe it was me, not accepting myself,
Whilst accepting people who really didn't care.

But I'm ready to break my boundaries.
I'm ready to grow and not just belong.

I yearn for the girl I used to be.

The girl who used to care about her studies.
The girl who used to write poetry.
The girl who used to sing confidently.
The girl who used to paint vividly.
The girl who used to love freely.
The girl who used to care deeply.

I do not care about my studies (as much).
I do not write poetry (as much).
I do not sing confidently (as much).
I do not paint vividly (as much).
I do not love freely (as much).
I do not care deeply (as much).

The intensity has passed on,
to younger generations,
to newer beings,
to fresh souls,
with more to live for,
with more to care for,
and with more to prepare for,
than I.

For I am old,
and I will continue to do the things I love,
but not with the passion,
but not with the love,
but not with the care,
but not with the confidence,
but not with the freedom,
that I once had.

f.m.s.