The last of our 20s
What constitutes the last decade?
What counts as having it worth?
Will you remember it
by the number of times you’ve stumbled and fell
the bodily bruises you gained
the acne scars you’ve collected?
Do you recall
the tiny failures that will last
you a lifetime
that thing you said
that moment you missed
of burning down bridges and burrowing away burdens
of No, No, No, No, No, yes, No
of overthinking and overcompensation
of rewinding back failed scenarios and pausing at glory highlights
of what if, perhaps if, can I, should I, should I,
I should, shouldn’t I?
I hope you remember
by the quenches of satisfaction
the moments of hard work
from greasy faces to wrinkled hands
from pounds of flesh shed to kilos gained
from hospital visits and body bags
from love lost and never found
from those who stayed when they should have left.
I want you to recall
being in awe of the universe
dancing beneath its darkness
gleaming at its burning light
wasting your days on a mountain
but nothing is wasted
how the sun became your chancellor and
the stars, your guides
how you crossed a valley only to see more peaks ahead
how the mountain you laboriously ascend
I am not the tallest of them all.
Oh, how small you are.
How small you are.
Failure makes sense.