day 335

I am young. Very young. I do not imagine you to remember how it feels to first speak their name. On the tip of your tongue, a newborn mountain. The size of an avalanche. It is wearing its own destruction. Singing its own funeral song. When you first teach yourself to ride a bike, you become every pedal and coast and cruise. I am young tonight, as young as I'll ever be. I am the first snowfall in late autumn. I do not know where I am going. I am just mouth of shambles and rotting roof tops.