Poetry

The Lost Year

It was a year saturated in sorrow

My mascara was regret

And I wore it in layers

Till my eye lashes were thick and heavy

My memories are snapshot photographs

Stained yellow with nicotine

Like my fingers

To remember

I have to squint

Through thick purple smoke

And the haze of hatred

That painted everything black

Sometimes I forget I’m 27

26 never happened

Except…

I am in all the pictures taped

To the mirror

Where I studied every flaw that I could find

I was there

Hunting for approval

From all the wrong people

In all the wrong places

A shadow of myself

With head hung low

But there

Existing

Convinced I was terminally unique –

Camped somewhere in the beyond – all – hope

I remember days blurring

Endless words strung into endless sentences

That went in endless circles

Until my voice was hoarse

From the words and the drips

And the bitter taste of empty promises

I kept my apologies in my pocket

As well as my remorse

The year 26 is one long scream

Choking

Trapped

Gargling in the base of my throat

A year of treading water

-And I survived.

Leave a Reply