with sunken eyes
shadowed from the night before
i check the mirror
to see if any more hair in my reflection has greyed
when my mother
was as old as me
she was already married
in the photos
her hair fell down
past her bridal veil
my dad has been cutting my hair ever since
my relatives still tell me that i look like him
he’s had a pack a day since 1986
i wish he’d quit
i’ve always
been late to bloom
ask my 2nd grade teacher and she’ll tell you it’s true
slippery steps at the bell for recess
left a hell of a bump on my head
as I lay down
on the back seat
i could tell that my mother felt so worried
the doctor said “you’ll be fine
just get some sleep”
but somedays I can’t manage to make my bed
so I focus on the small things I can do instead
i bike over brown leaves on my way to work
and everything passes me by in a blur
and I don’t have any time to think
about whats bothering me
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