Before and After

Fumbling my steps

Into the land unknown

Is it going to be okay, like everyone keep saying?

Am I going to be fine?

Have I carved up too much in my head?

That's what you said

It doesn't help

It's another piece to the pile of scrap starting to burning

A flicker

For now

It gets worse every minute

I'm trying hard to keep breathing

I keep falling short

My hair has started to grey the more time I spend in here

I'm on the way now

A sort of torsion running through me

Things I used to tell myself about empowerment

Falling short

Crumbling

I feel even worse, being a hypocrite

Please tell me this is not all I am

I can't

This can't be it

I'll finish this poem once on the way back home

Some things I've noticed on the drive

An old man bopping his head with a basketball, grey shorts and strong jaw

A girl in a soft pink sweatshirt in the rain, wrapping hands on her elbows

Walking slowly, headphones on

I am on the way back home

I think it feels like a curse sometimes

Reading between the folds and wrinkles of faces

The tension in each hug

I don't like the way I feel when I see you looking at me

Being asked about having kids

The same question each time

It gets a bit boring

When all they see is a baby making machine

I rather help the kids that are already suffering in the world

I rather give my time for them

I wish I didn't say this one word that raised all of the painted eyebrows

But then

It was the truth

And I realize

A lot of people don't want your truth

They want to see you bend to their truth

It's sad

Wanting to be a conglomerate