the things you learn about life are not gradual
like mouldy walls or a caterpillar's cocoon,
the second lamp in my bedroom i never use
and art with no timeframe.
they come sudden
and obvious and permanent.
like the beep at the back of the kitchen that used to sit
just a little out of your hearing range and clockwork mind,
but now it ticks in time to your thoughts,
like how Matt Bellamy takes a breath before
every line of a song. like how some people's voices pitch up
at the end of sentences and some do not sing when they speak.
or like if you memorise what one person is becoming
you can predict everybody else.
the things i have learnt about life
has taught me to put aside my emotions
like the way i now recognise
and hear about foul profanities and intoxicating fear
every corner i turn when i used to dismiss it with
solidity. like when my broken rib showed me ugly people existed
but their strength rebuilding mine showed me beautiful people did too.
and how pain used to never hurt because it was always there
but now it is only occasional like moonless skies and phone calls to my mother.
and how he always uses the phrase "it's dead good",
because some things are better than life, and hunches
and kisses my lips twice before my forehead at night.
these are things i notice, and i believe
i don't notice enough. perhaps i do not notice the specific day
trees begin to droop and grow old with winter,
or how people walking in groups align their footsteps, though i notice mine,
or the personality of a child by the way they hold their arms
out and touch you inside.
the things you learn about life are
not always meant for keeps,
so you turn away and keep your balance,
like the hint of an old bruise or the wild splash of chemicals in their eyes.
like children who learn too early about death and sexual intentions
and are not yours to teach,
or how some stains resist all the detergent you use.
like the night and days of clutching to my bed sheets
because i couldn't face myself and the world, or how for a moment as
fleeting as a skylark, he looked at me differently
because he was equally as lost.
some things are not meant for keeps
because they will rot inside you and make you
regurgitate their poison.
these are the few of many things in life i have learnt
that syllabus and five days a week never taught me
like the counter breaths he takes before his heart can settle
and the way his shoulders shake when he is laughing
the way i can move the shine in my eyes to a certain spot
to hide my disarray of thoughts.
like knowing you are allowed to get frustrated at them sometimes and tell them,
but still share every word and thought because they are your best friends.
how my sister does not know i can hear the tone
in her voice as she says things are fine when they aren't
and the way my dad doesn't have to smile for me to know he is happy
but took a tear from his eyes to know i once broke his heart.
or like the escalation to my mother's voice when she realises
i am on the other end of the line and i feel complete.
some things i embrace,
some things i throw out to the pigeons
and lost souls that search for meaning.
some things i let take me to heights i
never knew i could reach.
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