It’s sad turning 21 is a coming of a story, while
hilarious it’s also a coming closer to death story.
Knowing that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth,
a hot garbage smell
making itself at home embedded in my nose,
making everything I touch sharp leaving me punctured,
blinding me to any sense of youth I still have left,
day to day worries leaving echos like bullets
bouncing around in an empty skull time alone no longer serene.
Just to remind me I’m older, Leaving me with false deja vu.
“Chrissy get your head out of the gutter,
no, you cannot spend a whole day at Point State Park”
Turning 21 isn’t a coming-of-age story, nor
is it a story about getting closer to death either,
It's the coming of maturity, opening doors to your future.
You gotta keep moving on,
keep looking at the past you eventually get stuck in it.
cuida tu espalda, no confíes en nadie.
The scared girl of a woman is no scared nor quite,
her silence is loudest in rooms with others drowning her out, yet
turns to thunder by itself.
She’s Chrissy now, no doubt about it
someday her word will concur desolate worlds, impossibly doing so,
she has underestimated powers
“camina con dios mi amor,”
the cat in the window once said.
You were once a bud, my dear, but now
you are a flower blossomed from the sweetest nectar of wisdom.
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