I’m a hundred years old when I breathe

I find comfort in the miniscule starlight calling me to rest

Evergreens, Oaks and Willows

I’m seven years old when I climb them all

A giant when I reach the top

Plane Jane and ordinary Jo

Tell me all the little things I need to know

Eden seemed like the perfect home

Cut down the trees and build a home

I’m seventeen and the world could never be louder

And the lonely screams silence

The ink on my skin

Is a mystery worth uncovering

Crash like the gypsies

Dance the endless rhythm of aging

Because I’m thirty and the world’s repeating

I’m just older to most with my flailing that use to

Mean jumping and my jumping that looks like

Flailing so the words are jumbled in a line of straight

The sheets are quiet

The sunsets are bleak

And we lay awake at night but don’t speak

I still find myself in your eyes

With every truth and the little lies