National Poetry Month: Day 1
Days Gone By
Bones tired of supporting and shifting.
Crying out their dismay by cracking and creaking.
Announcing your body's arrival before you even fully rise from your chair.
Bright blue veins swimming too close to the paper thin skin.
Daring to burst forth, threatening to spill their juicy memories over boring beige floors.
Too much saliva finding its way to the bottom of your mouth. Drowning your ideas in a haze of mumbles and unfinished sentences.
Rough edges wearing themselves
down into a too-soft replica of who you once were.
It catches up to all of us.
Filling our joints with fluid, exchanging our memories with confusion.
Our bodies begging for earlier days.
Days when we did not think twice of getting on the ground to capture the stars with our stares.
Days when we laughed too loudly and sang off key to the only music which was our hearts beating against our ribcages.
Days when our bones whispered to our tendons, requesting bouts of dancing and reams of randomness.
Whispering a chant and chanting a whisper, they enjoyed all of their days.
Now is the time to celebrate.
Now is the time to love.
Now is the time to be incorrigible.
They knew their elasticity would not last.
They knew their muscles would not stay taut.
Days when we were ready to test how fast we could leave dust in the wind.
Relishing that there is no time for shyness. Realizing that we are never younger than the moment we are right now.
Days where we realized our bones, our marrow, our matter would be too tired to go on one day.
So we danced. We sang. We made mistakes. We made fools of ourselves.
But we lived and let lived.
We let nothing escape us.
At the end of the day, we let there be no excuses, no worries, no unexplored possibilities, and no open-ended questions.
We let there be no regrets.
The only thing we let and left was time for rejoicing for all we've conquered in the day.
The days of scars and heartbreak, revolutions and rennovations. Bruises and breaks. Heat and hate. The days our bones felt the imminent threat of aging but chose to jump in one last mud puddle.
Those are the days our bones ache for, the days that caused the wear and tear that they feel now.
Those were the days.