This moment is fleeting
I keep thinking about how I'll miss my brother once I leave for school again
forgetting that the little time I do have is spent soliciting my worries to future dates
compartmentalizing my stresses into fine lines and wrinkles that'll open themselves for
me once I'm "of age".
I forget, of course that this moment is fleeting
that I've spent my time yearning for the past presently throwing away the now and in
the future I'll ask "where did it go?"
it went where the wild things grow.