- On a Zoom call, my Psych teacher tells me
“You’re so mature for seventeen”
Sixteen, I say quietly
And I think Jesus Christ that’s young
Maybe I let it get to my head
- “With these grades, you’ll have no trouble
in university,” the counsellor
Reassures me, and I nod for her sake
Promise, I’m not gonna take an opportunity like this
and throw it back in your face
Hope that it’s true
- My grandpa says that “music stopped getting better after Elvis”
But we both know
That it’s not really about the music
It’s about who he was
A zest for life you lose and can’t replace
And I think what if my good old days are already behind me?
What if it doesn’t get better than this?
He says “You’re going to do well in the world”
And I think what if he’s wrong?
What if my downward spiral has only just begun?
- I tell Granny about the courses I’m taking
Against my better judgment
And she says, “That’s good, that’s really good”
Calls me a “smart cookie”
And holds my hand with trembling, bony fingers
I hug her and laugh, say goodbye
and pretend it’s okay
- I’m in someone’s office
He’s tenting his fingers like a steeple as light streams through the blinds
“All right. What grade are you in?”
Eleven
“You’ve got nothing to be worried about”
Off the top of my head: student loans, scholarships, letting down everyone who loves me, climate change, housing instability
I could get to the front of the line to pay
And lose my wallet at the bottom of my bag
The bus could run early
The plane going by just a little too low could be the one that drops a bomb
People could be cruel, and unfair
They could be absolutely right in their critique
I take the piecemeal
Thank him for his time, and go
- “I can’t wait ‘til I get my license
I’m gonna drive to your place, pick you guys up and go”
my best friend tells me on the phone, while I’m sitting outside
Racking up long-distance fees under the outdoor light
And I say I just wish you were here
I wish I could see you more than twice a year
I wish it could feel like it used to, before everything
Got harder; before we grew up under fire
And they say “Ugh, I know”
- “I mean, if we’re all just gonna be stardust, it’d be nice to just know”
I’m sitting at my desk, trying to stop scrolling through my phone
And I say something about
How you’re overreacting to an uncertain situation
Putting the cart before the horse
But really what the fuck do I know
- You’re lying in my arms and we’re shivering
Lying on your trampoline and watching the sky get dark over the trees
I feel like all of this has aged me
It feels good to tell the truth to you,
And I wish I never had to leave
As I watch the clouds turn pink in the sky
- “There’s so much I’ve missed the past two years
I’m just trying to cram it all in, and now I’m exhausted”
It’s pouring rain, and my fingers slip over the keypad
On the bank machine, and for a moment I forget to put my cash in the slot
God, I know
I am tired, like a quiet ache
And I don’t have the energy to do anything but watch
Time slipping out through the cracks between my fingers
Making a mess on the floor
Counting down to the moment I just crack and say
That I can’t fucking do this anymore
- “It’ll come with practise
It just takes time
Just keep trying, and you’ll get there, all right?”
But it’s so hard to imagine
A view at the end of the climb
Whatever you want to call it
But I’m tired, and fed up
After only two weeks
I don’t think that I’m cut out for this
It all goes faster in my head
I’m running on a treadmill
In search of a finish line
Then get off, broken and exhausted
And curse myself for not moving an inch
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