And we’re baaaaaack with a new #SpokenWordSaturday
I know beginnings better than anything,
I imagine myself running barefoot through fields of open possibility,
When the sky has that orange hue,
It could be ending,
Apollo delivering the sun,
Wondering if his feet ever get tired,
Because so often mine do,
or decide to just turn around.
My shoes have holes and my toes are cramped.
I have yet to finish a marathon.
I don’t smoke,
but I get high on first touches and glances,
Overanalyzing text messages,
I know I’m kinda getting too old for this shit,
the school girl giggling
came so close to almost kissing,
but then I ran.
my feet put on the breaks,
Don’t know why,
I reverse when things seem like they could be progressing.
And now I’m retelling the story to my friend.
She says I am a teenager again with stars in my eyes,
And I want to tell her you put them there,
Who I have yet to meet,
Who I have only caught glimpses of
in men I’ve allowed to caterpillar into me,
convincing me metamorphosis should occur,
as if I’m not beautiful enough already
with my cracks and jagged edges.
I know someone will find my glass smooth,
will not be afraid to prick their fingers.
if they do,
I will be the first one to run into the bathroom,
Grab a bandaid,
And it’ll probably have The Muppets on it.
Because, yeah, I have muppet bandaids.
I’m 23 and I like buying Muppet bandaids,
So sue me.
Oh fuck yeah,
I’ m looking for a Kermit & Miss Piggy.
Though does anyone else get a little weirded out by that interspecies romance?
I’m just trying to say I like beginnings
because I know things don’t always stay,
They don’t last.
I’m starting to look into eyes of lovers like sand in an hourglass,
I can see us slipping.
My legs are itching.
Someone is going to leave,
And that’s why I’ve become convinced
That even my favorite things come to a close,
And it’s okay, I know,
Like the way he looked at me in the Uber before I got out,
or the way I told him I’d love him forever,
but I pulled away,
watched forever turn into today.
I like beginnings because it’s the part before we say too much,
Before we fall into canyons of longing and ache,
And I have never known how to crawl back up.
I want to dive in,
or safety net,
But I am so afraid of the curtains closing,
the credits rolling,
I know, this will be my own undoing,
But for now
I can’t promise you anything.
I can’t promise you anything but the beginning.