Tastes like War

Notes to my Teenage Self

don’t listen to them
as if dirty fingernails
measure your worth
just sweep up your clippings
       and watch how your skin heals every single time
       you’re tough as mown grass
       although you never feel it
 
it’s all skin
their whimmerishness
their soft petal velvet
their quiet buzz
      pretending everyone wants their honey
      take away the camera and we’re all the same
      glitz deep and full of blood

but don’t buy my shoes
walking on the beach
you’ll be in the surf-line
footsteps washed away
just like the nail clippings
       this whiteboard life is full of wisdom
       that nobody else sees if you keep erasing it
       you can keep secrets or just buy bigger boots

age is like music
growing around you
harmonies or feral strains
and you sit in it
          it's a ride, a journey, and it's not all bad
          so let yourself be a little; like a foot stool in a cafe
          just colourful enough to have a reflection in the floor

The Title is from Go Dog Go Cafe

I can’t remember who had the prompt to write to your teenage self. But thank you!

21 thoughts on “Tastes like War

  1. This is a poem that tastes of war, that’s for sure. It’s rough-edged and gritty, and in a way I can’t precisely explain (because I’ve not yet had a cup of coffee), it feels tormented. My hope is that you keep writing and writing.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Wonderful! I especially like:

    but don’t buy my shoes
    walking on the beach
    you’ll be in the surf-line
    footsteps washed away
    just like the nail clippings

    and:

    so let yourself be a little, like a foot stool in a cafe

    Liked by 1 person

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