Growing Up

All pretense,
about money,
meaning nothing.
this cannot be it.

I cannot do this.
Always trapped.
All at once.

What is this feeling?
What is the air thick with?
Weighing down on me in the form of blackened photographs.
Of the soft light from a hundred different lamps falling into a smoky car,
and a million shapeless reunions,
half real, half imagined,
all blurring into one another

there’s a space
for pain to teach you
but I don’t go there anymore
And there’s a place for the lost and forgotten
somewhere I think I’ve been before
Where I shall not, will not go
No, you can not make me go.

There is a song for every season
& the grass is always greener
On the Otherside.
It ebbs away,

But she needs to look to somewhere
that won’t blind us in this cold,
silently laughing at my
each & every

As do I, my friend.
The chill has long
set in my heart and bones.
And I am afraid I can no longer see
half as far as I once could,
a long, long time ago.


5 thoughts on “Growing Up

  1. Tatsat says:

    Did someone tell you to be practical/ behave mature/grow up ?

  2. pan says:


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