Poem: Twenty-six
I’m twenty-six,
But I still walk on my toe tips Around family and friendships.
Feeling lost and dissociated,
Struggling with my own feelings, complicated,
Constantly living in my own head,
Always afraid of what’s coming ahead.
I’m twenty-six,
And I don’t know much about relationships.
I’m too self-conscious and afraid of love,
Yet I desperately long for it thereof.
I can’t easily trust,
Still confused about the meaning of stardust,
And how to love this mess And myself in the process.
I’m twenty-six,
And sometimes I don’t want to hear about politics.
I just want road trips and concert tickets,
Lose track of time in local markets,
Visit museums and book stores,
Collect polaroids of unique doors.
I’m twenty-six,
And I still get excited about the eclipse,
Knowing how to use chopsticks,
And overplayed magic tricks.
I love sunrises and sunsets,
Watching the stars in the forest,
The salty taste of my skin after a swim,
And the sound of the violin.
I’m twenty-six,
And I can’t wait for the future’s mix.
