It’s not a step back, she says
And she’s right, I think
This wasn’t a step
It was a tumble down a slope of sharp stones
in the throat
And hopes that flared up brightly
Even though I tried so hard
so white knuckle nightmare hard
Not to look ahead
To a different letter
To a different future
A letter that would say I hadn’t spent
All the thoughts I had worth thinking
Back in grade school.
It isn’t the end
It’s a lottery
Try again next year
And next year I’ll be older,
My mountain of undone things will be taller
This jumbled collection of possibilities shaken
Turned about and pieced through
Until all that’s left are the pretzel crumbs at the bottom of the bag.
It isn’t a step, or an end,
It is a disappointment
(And that’s how I know it’s mine).
Gosh Darn Sunlight 