Gather

(Written last night. I was reading some poems in the theme of youth and grief on a poetry app and noticing this pattern all through them and wondering how, as a young poet, it all applied to me. I am writing in my youth, now, it is not yet nostalgic, though it may be in the future. Still, I intend to carry my youth with me all through life, I have not left behind each age as I grow older, they are still inside of me, like many layers of cloth, or an onion skin, if you will, and they ebb and flow back and forth across my days and life.) 

Grief And youth

You-th and grief, 

We were young, once, 

They all say, 

And love was bitter-sweet, 

Touch was sweet pain.

Growing up hurts, 

The pain doesn't stop when your limbs cease to stretch, 

Your skin ceases to stripe, 

Your mouth ceases to crack and whine. 

Love is like breaking, 

But it's also like living and growing and learning, 

It never stops hurting, 

And nothing is happily ever after. 

Once upon a time

Wasn't so long ago, 

And it will come again 

Before it is all over and the sweet black pool swallows you whole

Or piece by piece. 

You are young still, 

And youth is it's own peculiar sort of grief.