i sat in the rising light of a long night and held what was left of my youthful face in my hands, and tried to cry for what i’ve lost, what might have been and never was, and also for what most certainly will be … aging. oldness. if this is when it’s over, well then, let it be. and let me be in peace, let me live like this. older. no.
wait. i am not old just yet. shit. no. i may not have my youth but i have my damnable immaturity and so what? so bite me. so fuck this. i’m not getting old yet. it’s still early. it’s still early.