I came back home crying to my mother one day
She asked me why my eyes were so sore
But how could I speak when my lips were deserted?
For they hurt from not being kissed anymore
Each breath was a mission I was not willing to take
A boulder heaved down on my bones
Everything was so difficult; all emotions deployed
It felt so familiar to be safely alone
My mother looked at me solemnly and told me,
“Adolescence is by far the most complex stage
At times you’re ecstatic, for you’ve succeeded!
But unfortunately, most times you fail at this age”
“Uncertainty is an irritating rash
That seems to linger, unable to heal
Curiosity is juvenile, yet stabs your core
‘Till you question if heaven is real”
I pondered on this and I dreamt that night
I dreamt about hawks circling me ‘round
They gracefully sliced the air above me
Without a squawk nor vigorous sound
The thoughts poured like an oil spill into the sea…
Who am I? Who will I be?
What is the future holding for me?
The crystal glass is foggy, I cannot see!
Alas, I’ve given up searching for angels
They have aided me no more than a pet
Beneath patches of hideous bruised smiles
Is a buried mountain of hateful regret
The rage invaded my organs of love
Why cannot I detoxify myself of remorse?
Every time I am certain I am happy again
Life brings tragedy and failures, of course
This life is but a cycle of comedy and distress
It goes the same way as the hawks circle the sky
Mother, will I one day be a stupendous bird?
She said, “As long as you don’t cry”
She asked me why my eyes were so sore
But how could I speak when my lips were deserted?
For they hurt from not being kissed anymore
Each breath was a mission I was not willing to take
A boulder heaved down on my bones
Everything was so difficult; all emotions deployed
It felt so familiar to be safely alone
My mother looked at me solemnly and told me,
“Adolescence is by far the most complex stage
At times you’re ecstatic, for you’ve succeeded!
But unfortunately, most times you fail at this age”
“Uncertainty is an irritating rash
That seems to linger, unable to heal
Curiosity is juvenile, yet stabs your core
‘Till you question if heaven is real”
I pondered on this and I dreamt that night
I dreamt about hawks circling me ‘round
They gracefully sliced the air above me
Without a squawk nor vigorous sound
The thoughts poured like an oil spill into the sea…
Who am I? Who will I be?
What is the future holding for me?
The crystal glass is foggy, I cannot see!
Alas, I’ve given up searching for angels
They have aided me no more than a pet
Beneath patches of hideous bruised smiles
Is a buried mountain of hateful regret
The rage invaded my organs of love
Why cannot I detoxify myself of remorse?
Every time I am certain I am happy again
Life brings tragedy and failures, of course
This life is but a cycle of comedy and distress
It goes the same way as the hawks circle the sky
Mother, will I one day be a stupendous bird?
She said, “As long as you don’t cry”
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