I miss basements
cold and dreary on old forgotten
furniture from the 80’s long replaced-
with friends I swore I would keep forever
grasping onto music like lifelines
and there wasn’t anything more dire
to discuss than whether La Dispute or
Gaslight Anthem were superior lyrically.
We were eighteen and not worried that
we were running out of time and hadn’t
chosen a career because
we were all going to be
musicians and artists and
romance novelists and poets anyway.
And now these days are all numbers-
the precious few hours in the day
I don’t have to spend slaving away-
my bank account’s bottom line-
how I need to save X amount
every pay period if I want to buy
a house that costs this much or that much-
and how much older I am getting every day.
Now I am longing for the Friday nights
of my youth spent at my grandmother’s house-
three generations of women cuddling
tea cups in their hands and completely happy-
Instead of with my fellow twenty-somethings
playing dress up with fewer yards of fabric and too much eyeliner-
drinking too much and trying to forget
that somewhere along the way we
gave up the belief that
were more important than acting our age.
“Acting Your Age”- 12-4-13-jessicagadziala