Derek Chos | + Follow Poet |
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On the Other Side of 27

I've made promises to survive before
To those I'd never see again
To those who couldn't keep it themselves
To those who don't know I exist

And here I am on the other side of 27
Having known the taste of gunmetal
Having felt the sting of overdose
Having gravity's cold embrace weigh me down

And it's nothing special
There was no celebration, no confetti
No one to play me off as the credits rolled
Things didn't get any easier

And yet, here I am.

Is it something to be proud of?
Was it simply being too lazy to die?
Less a desire to live and more a fear to die?
What was it that pushed me forward?

Love? Don't be silly.
Desire? I was willing to lose it all at points.
Pride? I understand it means nothing.
Pretentiousness? I haven't done enough to merit joining that club.

Half a year later, I don't have an answer.
A path forward perhaps, but no answer.

A lifetime ago, people danced to my tune
And I built a profession based on those skills
A decade later and that city's in ruins
With nothing behind me but salt and ash

With a Porcupine's Curse, I can't take the easy way
I don't want them even if they wanted me
I chose solitude assuming I wouldn't have to live with it long
But what choice do I have but to commit now?

28 is a higher number than I expected to experience
But so was 27.
22.
16.

But hit with the long plague, 60 seems like a dazzlingly high cap
With a wounded heart from the jump? Maybe 50's optimistic.
And in the womb I'll build for myself
I'll be stillborn when they find me again

Join the club? Sorry, I've gotta get home and do nothing all night again
And thus did 27 pass despite their best efforts
Come 29, I'll be an unstoppable god beset by nonbelievers
With a dead universe behind me and a handful of soil to my name.

Copyright © Derek Chos | Year Posted 2023

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