I’m not gonna lie and tell you it has been easy.
Being 27 that is.
The whole year actually.
Its been pretty hard, pretty painful,
Pretty eye opening.
For the people who don’t know you just yet.
Really know you that is.
It’s been sad,
Powerful,
Moving,
Its been quitting your job and letting go of the process.
Its been following your compass;
All the way up North or that Mexican type of south.
Its been here and back to New York there.
Its been ignored-
By her, by him, by the people you still have framed on your wall.
To the ones who helped shape you and want nothing to do with it.
Its been not having the answers when you do good deeds.
Not having thank you’s.
Not having the privilege to feel the way I want to feel.
To see things how I want to see them.
Its been not having the right answers to my own questions.
Not having even the wrong.
Not having the riddle to solve this game.
This roll me around on the floor type of fight.
This not look at me in the halls type of gossip.
This end of the world type of saga.
Maybe it is the end?
Maybe it’s on its way. Maybe it’s already here?
When I think about it,
This rotation around the earth, was perhaps a good one.
Great.
Grand even.
It simply smelled different.
Left a different taste in my mouth when I swallowed than the year before, and the year before that.
All the years ago.
This past year, something felt blossoming.
Beginning.
Becoming.
Almost like the look of being lost in Tulum waves or flipping through pages of your writing again.
How the appearance of depth can be an accomplishment.
Like being sober but feeling drunk.
This year might have been the one actually.
The turning point.
The one that changed it all.
Started it all.
The truest of end-alls.
The one that summed you up
To a tee.
That was 27 to me.