i hate being 20

27 years and a bottle of remembrance

(this is my moment, i learned to keep it hidden)

there was a feeling, and i wrote it with my hands

(debted to my failings, who will remember the man)

there was a moment and i sold it for my hands

(am i another of my sprawling prose rants)

27 years, 27 years

(hands and pens will sell)

a bottle of remembrance

(i bought them for myself)

27 years, in the bottom of the well

(there was a feeling and i dragged it into hell)

these are the verses where i was deadpan

(there was the moment, there was the man)

27 years

(and the bottle will sell)

27 years, 27 years

seven years, then my headline will sell

Author's Note

parentheticals should be read at the same time as the line above(i know that sounds weird, that's just how i envision it.) think of them as translations of the line above.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

almost like a look forward, knowing we are going to be disappointed when looking back at what we failed to do when we had the possibilities...

j.