when losing feels like victory 

and development parallels decay, 

              (forever racing//escaping collision) 

this is what growing up feels like. 

​

and at last i finally understand 

the aches of my parents                who lay in separate beds forever.

             (one in the bedroom//the other in a box) 

we may all grow up and grow apart. 

​

i think, now, i know that i am not broken. 

there is no misfiring electrical signal in my brain to blame for who i am. 

              (i am wary//not trusting whatever this is) 

it is okay to be authentic, even in isolation. 

​

i am no longer cursing my mirror 

for showing       me        someone that i hate. 

            (with the might of all my individual cells//existing dialectically) 

i can learn to love my directional differences.

 

my older sister-in-law reminds me that some people grow at different paces,

and that the faces you know best may change places; 

              it is okay to move on from someone else’s standstill. 

 

missing you forever hurts less than knowing you for a moment longer.