The Prelude Years
When you share another person’s childhood
And tumultuous teenage years
You see something rare and beautiful
That will never be seen again
Because there is a purity to those years
That will never recur
Before life has gotten to you
Before children and spouses
And other larger pursuits
Encompass your world
There is just you
And maybe a sibling or friend
To share nights
Of drinking too much coffee with
And only after eleven lattes
And a game of ball
Do you realize how unfortunate four a.m. is
I know four a.m. intimately
As I jealously realize you are asleep
Again
I hate you in that moment until
I take to your bookshelf and read
The tales you read yourself as a child
Nightmares and Dreamscapes
My old familiar friend
And so apropos for these strange times
When my nightmare is home
So I sleep on your floor
And the objects in my pocket
Take up room on your nightstand
I wonder as to what your nightmares are?
Are they made up of the way
That people look
When they underestimate you?
No, this is reality often enough
Why should is take up space in your sleep?
Or do your nightmares fade?
In comparison with your dreams
That you dream
With the imagination of a child
I cannot even begin to suspect
What that means for you
Not in a world
Where for my every nonsense
You have logic
And for my every dramatic tear
You have an answer
I see how we have grown up
And say things like
“Who would have thought?”
When the truth is
Me
I would have
It is no surprise to me or those who knew us
That you grew up to have children
And I remain the eternal child