Now That I Aged

I’d like to cash in all my trauma bonds—

They have reached maturity.

Hold court with all who I once was

Retrieve them from obscurity.

Have a circle about the ways

I’ve let my self down on repeat.

And maybe reach consensus

Of what’s to become of me,

Now that I’m free of past weights

Like giving a fuck and silence

The heaviest of all the bags

Is the one you keep quiet.

Return on investment wasn’t as good as expected

So I suppose I’ll have to pick me this time

And make some new commitments.

The bank of prosperity doesn’t deal in money

But individual valuations are available

For peace.

A recent blooming of our pearl bush

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I found this piece I wrote, September of last year, and felt today was a good day to share it.

I am, every now and again, surprised at how much I must have tucked in the dusty corners of my mind. Who knows if there’s worth or meaning in the trickle of words we string together, trying to make waterfalls pour out of Dixie cups, trying to make anything at all.

This flashback has something, though, that I am happy to share, even if I am unable to measure or meter it properly. Maybe that’s enough.

Thank you for being here.