To be nineteen again; Blissfully ignorant, Wrapped up in conversation that eventually lead me to be tightly secured in your arms. Laid out together underneath the warm August moonlight. We crept outback wrapped in a blanket and you made love to me as the sun came up on a rickety old lawn chair I was so afraid of being caught, But we were together and you kept me safe; Until one day you were the one my heart needed protecting against. Years pass, like time through the hourglass.
on your very first birthday, you will hear many things you will not be able to decipher them yet but they will echo in your ear until you go to sleep, you will hear about how big you've grown and how beautiful you are or how beautiful you're going to be and the highlight of your day will be when finally you get to cut into that delicious chocolate cake that your aunt made you and you will run around the yard and laugh as you trip endlessly and the big kids won't play with you but that's okay because you're one and you don't really understand that strange feeling in your heart when they say that you're too little to join in on their game of tag and everything is so confusing because your grandmother said that you were a big girl now but somehow you are not big enough and you won't be for awhile but you don't really care because in that moment you are one and everything is an adventure for you; from the wet grass in the backyard to the weird kisses your older brother and the girl across the street exchange but that just makes everything ten times more interesting and you are still protesting even though it is futile that you don't want to go to bed and even though you are still forced to go to bed earlier than you want, you are happy because today you turned one years old and you are big enough to cut the cake with some help from your mom but still too small to play tag with the big kids and the concept is confusing but exhilarating and you cannot wait for the next day and as your breathing becomes more even you succumb to the dark and fall asleep and everything is okay because you are one and you do not know yet that when you are five your mother will stop making time for you or that when you are ten everyone will stop caring about your existence and that when you are thirteen the boy in your school that you really really like will tell you that you are ugly and everyone else will follow and when you get to be seventeen you will be so desperate to leave this misery called life that you will try and force yourself to go into a different type of sleep, the more permanent kind and your father will say you're being an attention ***** and your mother will start to wonder where she went wrong and your older brother won't care because he won't find out that you are depressed or sad until the day of your funeral, when you are nineteen and finally asleep, although this time; you don't try to fight it instead you go willingly and succumb to the darkness much like you did when you were younger and unaware that life is not a great adventure, it is more like a never ending hell that will make you wish that you were one
this was supposed to be a happy poem but noPE my hands have a mind of their own