Getting old
Published in
Jan 17, 2021
A poem
It drives you crazy getting old,
birthday cakes frighten you,
birthday wishes sound like omens from an old book.
Life is slipping out of your hand,
like quicksand,
you feel like a driverless vehicle in an unknown land.
You fall in love every night with someone new,
you draw stars around their collarbones,
their company feels like listening to an old nostalgic song.
You try to define yourself through art but fail every time,
your poetry is hollow and your words never rhyme,
during weekends you feel like an empty bottle of wine.
It’s amazing how some people never get old,
they keep their old hobbies close to themselves,
but you’ve already set fire to the album and with it your old self.
