bows and handlebars

June 11, 2010

I want to be young again
So that I only worry about my bike
And where my handlebar streamers disappeared to
Or how fast my arm will heal
So I can swim and shower normally
I’ll spend hours picking out outfits
And playing with barbie
Dreaming of how beautiful I will be
As a model
Or how my words will captivate
And I’ll be rich
I want to have those worries back
The fear that I will be the last
In my class to get laid
(which was true, but I’m okay)
I want to worry about my dogs
And my family
And whether or not that boy likes me
But I guess my stress hasn’t changed
It’s evolved
Everything is the same I’m just older
As I matured so did those ideas
It’s not bikes, but cars
My arm healed fine, but I’m ticking
And barbie instilled a beauty I can’t
I won’t walk runways
My body is thick, like a tree
Still waiting to be climbed
I’m holding captive an audience of one
No matter how many read
Nobody pays me
Everything is always the end of the world
But I’m just getting started.


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