on growing up.

No one likes admitting defeat,
Especially when you were more than sure that you were right.
With the evidence stacked as high as it was—
Higher than the dirty dishes in the sink,
Higher than the cathedrals of cigarette butts
Rising from their ashtray foundations—
Pockets full of posies and proof,
And piles upon piles of fervent witness testimonial stacked in your favor,
You knew, you were certain
That heads would roll.
There was no possible way you could be wrong.
There was no possible way that the jury could find him
Not guilty.

Except
You’re the jury.
And you’ve reached an unexpected verdict:
He’s innocent.



I’ve spent a lot of time deconstructing myself,
Lying on Freud’s metaphorical, velvety, cum-stained couch
Consulting my imaginary arm-chair psychologist,
Melting the glue
And chiseling away at the pieces of my broken ego,
Peeling off the layers like an onion,
And I realized
You were right.


I’ve realized I am indeed too young.
I still have a lot of growing to do.


You once told me:
“You’re like a bottle of fine wine,
You have to be opened at the right age
Or else it’s spoiled”.
At first, I wanted to bludgeon you with that bottle,
Slit your throat with the shards
And then note how ironically appropriate a wine comparison was
Coming from an alcoholic;
I drank away my sorrows instead.


Now, I’m raising high the white flags.
Lousy metaphors aside: you were right.
I still have growing to do.



Today is my best friend’s birthday.
She’s twenty.
I’m twenty.
I called her and we shrieked about
How frightening it is to no longer be teenagers.
At first we felt old;
She started whittling a cane
And I popped a painkiller
Because that’s what old people do, right?

But then we realized
We’re so young, we’re so goddamn young.
Assuming we both die at eighty of lung cancer
We still have sixty fucking years to go.
So much time to learn.
So much time to grow.

(We also noted how it’s a miracle that we’re alive today,
How we had both assumed we’d be dead by eighteen.
“Live fast and die young” we used to say.
And we meant it.
We don’t feel that way anymore.)


I’m excited to learn,
I’m excited to love,
I’m excited to live,
I’m excited to grow.


I’m just sorry you don’t want to be around to watch the process.
You could’ve been an excellent teacher.