The Last Story

I’m seventeen years old.

The real world is coming at me fast,

Not quite yet at terminal velocity,

But I’ll be getting close.

I have a new hand to hold,

To grow old with, to get colds with,

To bring me back to the fantasy world

I was engulfed with

When I need some magic.

When it feels like it’s all too fast,

Like I’m going to drown,

She whispers sweet nothings,

and the Real World slows down

It gets replaced with a flickering movie

The film reel goes round, showing everything,

My 2016 in a single story, our story,

And I smile,

Because that’s all that I needed,

I open my eyes and I hold her,

I see that everything will be alright,

I’ve faced sixteen stories alone,

But she’s taught me to smile,

Time stretches out,

And I smile

While the next story is flying by

At the speed of sound,

The last story feels like a mile,

And that's all that I needed.

 

- bagheri

This poem is about: 
Me

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