change: A Poem

You never really think about it,
until you’re forced to.
And when it’s looming over you,
with huge eyes and claws,
that’s when you notice it.

After you confront it,
face it head on at the edge of your bed sheets,
deal with the change,
it walks back into your closet.
You feel better because it’s gone,
dealt with,
but it is waiting.

It is inevitable.
You will need to change,
and the monster will always reappear.
Such an endless cycle.

Why not let us sit comfortably?
Without feeling breath on the back of our necks?
Without needing to

Well, of course we mustn’t do that!
For without this monster…
How would we know how
we are?

-Emily Marques



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