Minimal

A poem for my future self to read. 

I don’t feel like an adult.

twenty-five. twenty-five. twenty-five. twenty-five. twenty-five. twenty-five.

Water.

Shining down the freeway.

Glistening. Light.

The earth is upside down.

Glowing freeways

It’s raining.

Glistens.

The water beneath me shining up to the earth.

I’m upside down.

Backwards.

Glistens. Reflecting.

Sparks in the sky.

Like veins.

In an instant it’s gone.

Twenty-five. twenty-five. twenty-five. twenty-five. twenty-five. twenty-five.

I’m not an adult.

Childlike.

I drive across the glowing road

windows down,

the rain.

Pitter. Pattering on my windshield.

Twenty-five. twenty-five. twenty-five. twenty-five. twenty-five. twenty-five.

Glistening puddles welcoming the sun to come out.

Twenty-six. And I’m a kid.

Author: Daliap

An artist, writer, and adventure. I need be constantly moving whether it is my brain, body, or soul.

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