top of page

A lovely age (A song/poem by Tash)

There she was, Staring out her window. Motionless. Her hands resting ghost like in her lap. I sat staring at her, scared. What will become of me when I grow old? How sad I will be. How alone I would feel. What a burden I will appear to my family. I will end it, before I become rotten. But then, I saw her lip twitch. I watched closely and was sure I saw a smile. What could she possibly be smiling at?

There she was staring at me. Motionless. Her hands nervously fiddling with her skirt. I could feel her fear. Her fear of growing old. How sad she must think I am. How alone she must think I feel. How useless I must feel. Why don’t I just die? I stare out into the beautiful landscape ahead of me. And I remember.

Then I saw it all. Her first kiss. Her best friend. Her graduation. Her puffing on a cigarette Her sitting at a funeral. Her in a bridesmaid’s gown. Her running down a beach with the warm sand between her toes. Her first car. Their first house. Her pushing a pram.

Can’t you see child? I have lived. Sometimes, when I was sad, I cried. Other times, I laughed to hide the pain, whether it was mine or someone else's. And when I was happy, I laughed from my gut. I blushed when I was embarrassed. I hated when I or someone I loved was hurt And I forgave with difficulty, But remembering that it was this forgiveness that set me free. I loved with all my heart, But only after I broke down the wall protecting it from love’s beauty.

She was beautiful. Suddenly I saw that every wrinkle on her face was a past emotion. Every vein was her soul’s journey Every scar was her pain And the lines around her eyes and mouth were her happiness

I am beautiful because I have lived

She is beautiful because she has lived

3 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

The truth confirmed. she puked. Quickly composed, She emerged with a mask. This burden. This truth. Consumes her. And the truth is hidden in a lie. But how can she tell Her? That Her world is a lie.

Again, as a sufferer of sleep paralysis. This was written after one of my experiences. The sun was creeping in her window. She lay there and closed her eyes to rest. While asleep, She felt it crawl th

Her eyes open Struggling She roles over Dying To dream again. Another day. Another futile existence With no determined meaning, But an alleged reality. Where is our creator? What is it? Is it science

bottom of page