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You’re looking down, and I
see through the triumph and
mockery and rotten tendencies

to pick out the beautiful pieces I
thought to be so much larger.
You’ve made the world a little

darker; turned the clock a little
slower. Assuring them you’ve gotten
away with it again. The walls

settle once you’ve left, their crackling
sighs follow you to the door. I hear
them pleading me to untack

you from their skin. You’re nothing
that you thought you’d be. Twenty- one
and your days are numbered. Do whatever

it takes to make you feel alive. Green leaves
fall for you, and the earth spins for you.
The people laugh at you. You’re nothing

that I thought you’d be. A love drunk
child too crude to grow.
The road’s too raw to wait.