its just about that time
to have everything
figured out
newspapers keep printing
celebrations keep appearing
yet behind dusty curtains and yellowed pages
underneath couch cushions and unmatched shoe laces
are hidden secrets beyond revealing
impossible to share
between the silences of smiles
and the photos of the engaged.
will it never come?

potluck dinners
comprised of mashed potatoes
and pasta salads
red drink
and grandpa’s bar friends
always leave me discontented
disconnected
from the joie de vivre
the blissful chattiness
of happyfull lives
of husbands and wives
and their eighteen children
spilling juice on the floor

if i could be honest
thats all i long for

to set in my heart
tombstones of dreams
doubtfully buried
beneath wisdom and seams
sewn up in doubt and derision
is only self-deprecation
but more like protection
from disappointment and insecurity

such loose words
such meaningless definitions
unrefined by f-words
we drop through ceilings
behind the backs of the panicked
who cant believe that all that is theirs
wont one day be mine

how long have i pined
for an evergreen to grow in my garden
to plant itself firmly between my feet
and blossom its prickly branches
in the palm of my hand
grasping my fingers
to never leave
and never fade
and talk to the husbands
of my married friends
and smile at me
while i clean juice off
the floor

what am i missing
that i dont know?
how will i know
what i’m missing?
one day i will miss
knowing what i know
yet knowing that now
doesnt make me miss
what i dont know
any less