Teenage years

The silence in the car is deafening,

The bingo may have changed brands,

The pub nearby has mismatched lights,

The gift shop’s now for vapes,

The feeling of nostalgia in the chip shop I’ve never been in-

Has me consumed in my phone once more,

Sweet relief from that old takeaway Pizza Hut, 

And music school that’s never once been open,

And I would think to myself-

“When did I become a teenager?”

My new use of words disgusts me at times,

The effing, jeffing, and oh good Lord the blaspheming,

But I try to fake my innocence,

I cover up my bloodshot eyes,

With shades of confidence and jokes.

The old me is dead, I think,

Though I hold her steady,

Well, she’s never been she,

And I’m old already-

I’m not, I’m not.

But I know I’m dead soon,

The tokens of the past places the sorrow in my room.

“And I’m not old I’m not!” I think to myself, “I’m not a teenager yet, I have the rest of my life yet to go!” But it’s a lie, like the ones I always tell. 

And oh look! Never mind, oh well…

-17/5/24 9:55pm