how i do it...

i've been asked a lot, "how are you good at--"
i don't try to answer anymore.
just smile. a long time ago, i would have scowled,
i would have given them a full lecture
on the truth of all my years, but
all the flight's been pried out of my jaws
and put into others to examine
and laugh at when i'm not around.

when you're a kid, stuff doesn't matter. nothing like
how well you can draw or how fast you can run
or how many math problems you can do in ten minutes matters.
and it's great. and you want to grow up, but you never knew
that growing up would tear the life out of you,
until you were numbers, rising and falling with the days.

to tell the truth, the reason i'm good at what i do
is because i paid the price of empty hours and
terrible science fiction novels and making mistakes
and that bliss that is not mattering.
i offered up my life to time and watched it
consume my hollow bones and fill the spaces
with what i paid for. and it wasn't worth it.
so don't let them take you before
you've had all the summers you've always wanted to have.

hold on to your space for mistakes for a few moments,
savor it before it's time to let go.
let me tell you. i gave away my real smile
and the promise of wandering wild places
for expectations i never wanted to meet,
bars i don't want to jump,
to give away pieces of me that i wanted to keep.