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My Twenties

I was blazing bright
but couldn’t see it.
I was making big mistakes
and trying to fix them with bigger mistakes.
I was searching for pieces of myself
that were never lost.
I was desperate for things I had.
I was blind.

I was drinking and laughing
and dancing and loving and
thought I was figuring things out.
I was staying up so late
talking, talking, talking.
I thought I was listening but
I was deaf.

It was beautiful, exhausting,
dramatic, hilarious,
disappointing, shameful, fun,
and full
of lipstick, high heels,
horses, hurts, big earrings,
bigger hair, hopes, heartaches,
and a love for the ages!
And I was blind
I was deaf.
Always feeling,
rarely thinking . . .

And how would it be
to be like that again?
So wrapped up in what is felt,
what is happening can’t be discerned?

Impossible now
and that’s okay.

My thirties are for something else
I’ll, no doubt, understand
in my forties.

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