'bout time: Music Lessons
(More sophomoric poetry inspired by some spoken word I've heard...)

Imagine.
You know how music takes you places.
Places you in a past
when you're caught off guard
by a song's rhythm
makes you think of a someone...
damn if it always will
I hate to love those songs that remind me of boys I didn't even love, and
love to love those songs that remind me of friends I miss. Together we
missed the boat on
high school
high drama
between boys and girls
My girls were my friends and
my boys were my friends and
boyfriends were something other teenagers had that seemed more normal than us, than me.
But
normality's illusory.
I was born with a maturity,
an ingrained sense of careful responsibility.
My mom said I was born 30-
so
I guess I'm waiting till
I
catch up to
me.

Except now
girls are women and boys are men
and I was a careful perfectionist who with love, didn't make mistakes. Takes
courage to make mistakes, risk heart breaks.
I have the wisdom to know there are risks I need to take,
but that doesn't make'em easy to embrace,
and now I'm taller so the fall will be harder to break.
Like on ice skates,
          you're better off learning young.
And hell, I took ice skating lessons when I was six and seven.
I'm a good student, but the school of life- it doesn't give you warm gloves for protection
Or booklists, practice quizzes, syllabi and term defintions.

But I love learning, so
I'm slowly moving past the creek by my parents' house, where I walked safe a child,
to catch my lessons from the rivers, wild
seas and oceans of a world complicated by multi-cultures, multi-economies...
multi-emotions.
Hopefully I won't get sick from the motion,
and will emerge wiser, with new rhtyhms in my heart, and hips.
New words in my mind and lips.
No longer tongue tied, except when it's tied to another tongue...
And will emerge still willing to learn more,
when I'm no longer fearing memories from songs that rotate on my computer at random.
For they are memories of living with the fear of living,
little to do with the boys that trigger'em.

And well, if I was truly born 30, I guess it's about time I grew up.