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The next one I wrote recently, like, a few weeks ago. It's called Generation Gap.
They look down at me spitting words like lazy,
dependent, internet-crazed,
I wasn’t like that when I was a kid, adding to
boulders already on my shoulders.
This is not
my fault.
I am from the generation of hands shaking nausea and beds that haven’t seen sleep
in years.
The generation of counting a piece of gum as a meal and
ripping open our wrists in hopes of feeling better or feeling
something or nothing or
maybe we’re just really good at destroying ourselves.
The generation of quiet tears at 3AM, holding our breath and
sinking our teeth into our blankets terrified of waking our alcoholic father or
abused mother.
The generation of helpless children clawing at locked doors. We didn’t ask to
be put in this *** room and half of us are
stuck wishing our parents had a better understanding of
birth control. Maybe then everyone’s lives would be easier.
The generation so painfully aware of the mistakes of our ancestors, this mess
hanging over our heads like the chandeliers we only see in movies.
The generation of struggling to remain breathing.
Of brightly colored hair and stretched earlobes and
“how do you expect to get a job looking like that?”
Of falling short of expectations, but when we were playing with dirt and rocks
in the backyard, we would have never expected to grow into
this.
The generation of desire. Of wanting.
Of needing. More than what we have in front of us and
maybe that makes us greedy but we are
not satisfied jumping from therapist to therapist, staring at bookshelves of journals at midnight
when no one is willing to listen.
The generation of loneliness.
I am from the generation of trying.
We are trying.
I am trying.
Thank you.
