Tag: youth

crying fluorescent tears on the train,

𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸?,

i say to you. my eyes are soft but i house venom underneath my teeth. i cloak my vulnerability in spite, daring you to be cruel to me so i can finally bite. you can tell.

𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨,

you finally say.

i gauge your kindness with suspicion.

when i detect no snide, i soften my tongue.

yes

but

𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥,

𝘪 𝘥𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

there’s this song that lorde wrote after david bowie died

she sings about spilling our guts out on graceless nights because we are young and so ashamed,

frying our brains to the speakers

as we watch our heroes die

like lorde, all my heroes perished.

the party’s cut into my bones,

and the magic bullet’s wearing off.

dancing her feet on tombs,

lorde concludes

that she can’t stand to be alone.

watching my heroes fade,

i also thought

that i couldn’t stand to be alone.

yet i’m crying fluorescent tears on the train

and i feel my youth burning strong,

flaming my throat with anger and song.

my youth,

it still burns strong.

and i know.

my heroes ashed,

but i can stand

to be alone.

you open your mouth to respond

but i shake my head. i already know. it doesn’t need

to be spoken to me,

not anymore.

you smile and vanish in the scenery.

i’m crying fluorescent tears

on the train

and i can stand to be alone.

poem from my upcoming poetry collection which tackles the blooming into young adulthood.