growing pains
a poem
Existence, with confidence,
is utterly mortifying.
My skin does not feel like mine
not foreign, not ill-fitting,
but vast, like paws too big for a pup.
I am growing into myself,
yet there is no solace in the stretch,
no comfort in the ache.
Embarrassed, but (somehow) equally proud,
I stumble through new waves of courage,
voicing dissatisfaction as if it belongs to me.
No one laughs at a child who stumbles.
(Can I use that excuse at twenty-eight?
That I am still learning the steps
to the life I dreamed of at eight?
eighteen?)
Growth is ungraceful
like stretching mid-dream,
unaware of how much space I take up
until I b u m p into the edges of my own life.
The past flees as quickly as the future forms,
and I stand in the blur between
caught in the motion of becoming.
Change, as it happens, feels like slow motion.
To others, I am only a streak of light
a ghost of what was, a glimpse of what will be.
Maybe it’s not the shame of slow-motion toddling.
Maybe it’s the shame of being pinned to
a moment that already passed.
a past that’s slipped through time’s fingers.
✨ This is my final poem for the “share 1 poem a month” goal I had set for myself in January.
This project has made me believe in myself differently and grow and ache in ways I never thought possible.
I am so proud that this project has brought so much joy in my life. Including being published 12 times!
✨ You can check out my poems that were part of the project on my instagram HERE
✨ Or the playlist I made HERE.