Feels Like I Never Grew Up

Prakhar Gupta

For one,

I still get excited to see airplanes landing,

especially near an airport.

It’s weird how much fascination I have

for the sheer volume of cars in a traffic jam.

I try to distinctly memorize every one of them,

as far as my eyes can see.

 

Two,

I spend most of my days with my thoughts,

just the two of us. They tire me down in the day,

and fire me up at night.

I don’t know what to say, when to say, and

whom to say. The word “right” ceases to be an

adjective for my words, for the moment,

and for the listener.

I’m still figuring out how to make and keep friends.

 

Three,

I know how to receive, but not how to keep

or how to give back. I like to be nurtured.

But I run when I see tears,

especially when I am their source.

I love comfort, I hate responsibilities and,

I fear lizards.

 

Behind my wrinkled forehead and my bearded face,

there’s a cautious caterpillar,

apprehensively approaching a door to adulthood,

reluctant to let go of,

 

my childhood.


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