At My Age, Part 2

I’m hiding in myself
passionless and wondering
if there was ever only a finite amount
filled at birth, topped up at adolescence
and I merely burned it too fast
reckless, this love poured out
so long and that love wrested away
and every love wrung to the last drop
or dribbled out in perhaps the wrong dreams
little side meandering dead-end trails
and should there be another warning label
plastered on life, for the young—
like smoking will kill you, hiding
dry-shelled without passion
will kill you


NaPoWriMo Day 9 asks us to write something we’re afraid to say; Poetic Asides prompts a “hide-out” poem.

9 thoughts on “At My Age, Part 2”

  1. Oooof. I felt that. You speak here so much of what is in my heart when I look at my boy and when I think of how we sometimes dangle directionless in the wind. What I love most is the way you bluntly and without fear say some of the dark and scary things that can hide in a soul. Bringing them into the light as a writer and for those reading helps diminish the darkness, I find.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I do feel there is such a balancing act between honesty and positivity–to be able to acknowledge the human darknesses but not let them swallow us. And I hope it’s not just wanting to put on a “good” front, but really trying to work on that balance.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. It’s hard, especially those times they creep up unexpectedly. And sometimes I find a piece may go that way without it being a reflection of how I’m actually feeling. Does that happen to you?


        1. Hm, not sure. Unless a persona piece, fiction, might take on darker shadings than I intended. But does it all come from the same place? I do know there have been times when I’ve written myself into a more positive place. Actually lots of times. 🙂


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