Now Our Hands Are Fists

Now Our Hands Are Fists So long ago we thought we were invincible our capes tightly tied around our necks and forts made of blankets knowing that those are the covers that tucked us in at night and we'd awaken safely then work our beautiful plans of flight. With that blanket cape tightly tied around our necks we'd fly off the couch landing as a frog into an undeniable crouch which does not hurt because remember? We're invincible. Nothing can hurt us. Not those unbearable bee stings or that scratch from the cat or the carpet burn from sliding down the stairs as a matter of fact, the thing that hurt most was losing your favorite stuffed animal. Invincible as we were we knew we'd get older but we swore to ourselves "I am not going to be like that" as we'd point to our parents, our siblings, our cousins, with a small finger seeing them stressed we promised we'd never pull our hair grit our teeth or bite our nails we lived in the present, without thought. Now we are older and it was so long ago that we thought we were indestructible. With our necklaces around our necks we've grown older and it was just a short time ago that we knew we'd grow up into something we swore we wouldn't become. stressed about life we promised ourselves it's not that big of a deal. Now we ARE older. While some have silver necklaces some have nooses. While we all thought we had capes. We thought we were indestructible. So why were we pointing fingers? Who cares that we're growing up? And we look at the new kids on the street. Little kids "They're just like me..” When I was younger careless, fearless, but younger. and we point to them with that same finger which used to be so much smaller wishing we were those kids again those who fly off the couch With a cape tightly tied around their necks and forts made of blankets. Yet we still point to our parents with that same finger noticing the change wishing with doubt that we wouldn't end up like them stressed about life When all the thoughts become real we think in our minds it's not that big of a deal. Now our hands are fists. There’s an inability to point our fingers. We are no longer indestructible. Invincible. We no longer dream of flight. There’s an inability to dream. No more capes. We look back upon those glorious times. We look behind us, glare at life and think “That was not yours to steal…” We turn around and look forward upon death, “Never mind, it’s not that big of a deal.”