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Sometimes you’re 23
and standing in the kitchen of your house
making breakfast and brewing coffee and listening to music
that for some reason is really getting to your heart.
You’re just standing there thinking about
going to work and picking up your dry cleaning.
And also more exciting things like books you’re reading
and trips you plan on taking
and relationships that are springing into existence.
Or fading from your memory,
which is far less exciting.
And suddenly you just don’t feel at home in your skin
or in your house
and you just want home
but “Mom’s” probably wouldn’t feel like home
anymore either.
There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone
and ears that listened everyday
and arms that were never for anyone else. But just to calm you down when you started feeling trapped
in a five-minute period
where nostalgia is too much
and thoughts of this person you are feel foreign.
When you realize that you’ll never be this young again
but this is the first time you’ve ever been this old.
When you can’t remember how you got from sixteen
to here
and all the same feel like sixteen
is just as much of a stranger to you now.
The song is over.
The coffee’s done.
You’re going to breathe in and out.
You’re going to be fine in about five minutes.

The Winter of the Air

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Sometimes you’re 23 and standing in the kitchen of your

3 faves · Feb 10, 2013 10:56pm

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poem · vent · quote · poems

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