it’s me, isn’t it

you have changed
so different from what I remember
but it’s me, isn’t it
the one who has changed
I’m a practicing fear-less now
so damn tired of being afraid
don’t want to hurt
don’t want to worry
but there is no way of wearing fierce
without pushing ahead forcefully
and you
I’m trying not to leave behind
our toes were in the sandbox together
the wind, she’s blowing all our castles away
there is natural sparkle in your eyes
while my own eyes fight to shine
I was there so long ago
but you can only see me through the blinding brights of eighteen
oh daughter, eighteen really sucks

Caroline Hands Crossed

Caroline Hands Crossed

8 thoughts on “it’s me, isn’t it

  1. This poem hit me like a tidal wave. Maybe it’s because I was at one of the women’s marches today and saw so many shining young women and equally shining older women (and men too, many of them) standing together in unity. Anyway, it does suck to be 18; and it’s great to be 18; and it sucks to be 50+; and it’s great to be 50+. And your poem is beautiful, AM, and I hope you show it to Caroline. How cool is that – to have a mom who writes poetry and draws what’s in her heart? She must be just as proud of you as you are of her. *Sigh*

    Liked by 1 person

    • the daughter really did tear this one outta my heart, damn-
      I need to remember back and keep remembering back and holding that younger heart in my face when listening to my dear darling
      thank you, DS


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