twenty-five

Another year has climbed onto my back.
That makes twenty-five that I must drag.
A caravan of muses and mistakes,
The company of which I can’t shake.

Another year has slipped between my hands.
It activates the quick beneath my sand,
Cauterizing every step I take.
It's made a map of the mess left in my wake.

Another year has crawled into my bed,
With plans to steal what dreams I have left.
Demanding restitution for my deeds,
An unrelenting ransom for my sleep.

Another year is placed upon the shelf.
Dog-eared pages penned by someone else.
Scrutinized at first, each idle line.
Now dust and sunburn stains tattoo the spine.

-

I should have listened when I had the chance.
I've been busy trying to paint the past.
But you can never hesitate to crash...
and learn.

I should have lived and let it come to pass.
I could've cried but I just had to laugh.
What is life but not a lonely match...
to burn?