Chomp Chomp.

This city freezes you in time, I said.
Forever eighteen.

Hard to grow beyond what you were when they first saw you.
Hard to know which friendships are real and which are for show.

Who do I love out of habit,
and who from fate?

Old friends feel like family.
In the way that I am constantly defensive.

Pulling up to her house I had flashbacks.
Suddenly, we had just graduated highschool.
There’s a lot of screaming happening.

Mostly I feel empty.

I feel myself trying to keep the peace.
I don’t think it’s working,
my humour feels misinterpreted.
Am I awkward or are they?

This city eats it’s own, she said.

Chomp chomp.
Down hard on the sides of your heart.

Standing in the doorway.
Some boys passing by.
She was crying when I called.

What is it all worth?
Just so we can hug and make a scene?
That’s not friendship. That’s not real.
I said I understood exactly what she meant.

It’s hard,
being the ones who’ve been here all along.
I imagine the things they must think.

That we haven’t changed.
That being here means we’re not making progress.

And although we may have the same workplaces and relationships.
We have grown in ways you cannot see.

No ticket stubs to prove it.
No new countries or languages.

The beauty in our stories,
is in the smallest parts you can’t hash out in a day.

We are growing more into ourselves.

So, it’s harder to be friends than it used to be.
The differences between us seem considerably more obvious.

Opinions, goals, values.

I am an artist and she, an activist.

She helps others by physically being there.
Next to her, for a moment, I feel like a self centered twat.
Like a broke looser mulling around in my silly emotions.
But then, I remember the way people react to my art.

The way they say that I inspire them, that I astound them.

That I see things in ways others may not.
That I can help others by helping them to understand themselves.
That I can create beauty,
that I can share it.

That I can create things that go,

Chomp Chomp.
Down hard on the sides of your heart.

1 thought on “Chomp Chomp.

  1. Pingback: So I’ve been writing a lot of poetry lately. | Good luck with Madeleine.

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