Thursday, August 22

Pre Quarter Century Prose

Theres a ticking bomb before turning 25
It's not the fear of growing older less marriageable more cynical less understanding more closeminded less fresh more jaded 
Its more about the less is more worry
that i wont know enough
that i have to know everything
that there is a growing gnawing craving animal within me
with sharp teeth and furtive, restless claws
tucked inside a warm snug cavity with rock
and dirt and mud and gravelly gravel all around
dying to get out,
to escape,
to jump around and split some skin and taste something new
to absorb it all through newly pinked raw skin and breathe through enlarged pores
alive and fully aware that there this isn't enough,
no its not,
theres a whole world out there that i have to devour whole
but actually swallow in parts
chewing up the nubbly bits
i don't know enough and i need to know everything and 
keep feeling like everyone i meet knows something
knows nothing
that i already know feel think and need to share question and understand faster better clearer.

(Please don't squirrel at me for the dotted 'i'. I know my grammar. I also know Emily Dickinson.)

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