by Mary E. Lowd
I can’t always tell the difference between us
And it makes me want to scream
You’re growing older
Growing smaller
Repeat the same stories every day
I’m not there yet
And I hope I never ossify in quite that way
When I want comfort
You tell you had it bad too
But it’s worse when you say that—
Because is this all I have to look forward to?
Holding onto injustices and slights
Things that go wrong now
Will apparently be tomorrow’s
Story-telling delights?
I want to be more
Than the suffering I feel now
But you keep going back
To the same disasters
From my formative years, somehow
To me they’re the material
I’ve been made from
But to you, they should be
Water under a bridge, now long gone
I can’t always tell the difference between us
But I’m not going to scream
I’m going to claim my own space
And hope the vision of my future
Shown in you
Is only a bad dream
Something I can overcome