somehow the past is not just the past but also Our future
the people We were are the people We will be
And those We swore not to be are Us now and forever
those We wish to be We only Mourn like a mother for a lost child
Forever
new years day and new calendars and new journals
Old feelings and old friends
We Kill ourselves to make anew
all in vain
because you make your mothers stew
you bite your nails till they bleed
red hands and nose and cheeks and eyes
Has it always been so cold outside?
you ask the person to your left
hands and nose and cheeks and eyes
red like yours
so We go to the store and buy Old jackets and hats and gloves that look o so familiar to something once worn
to be warm used to be to be young
and new
that’s what they told you when the new years bell went boom?
When they watched Us throw way our jacket and hat and ever-so-warm gloves
withOut question
they saw
Sweet sweat dripping down our backs
from the heat of Our mother’s not-so-sour stew
brewing for hours in what We all once swore to never have
withOut question
warm hands with throbbing fingertips
mouth shut in fear of red iron dripping out
now to be warm is to be old
and the person who lied to you died and you can’t quite remember why?
A cautionary tale
We will tell
