You Won't Be Like Them

Lonely.

You've had all day to think about the past

in years. Months. Seconds.

Lying in bed it doesn't get comfortable in your head with all those years to sift through

like the old folks who

you won't be like.

Who you hastily, impatiently, place in that spot in your brain

where you only go in guilty anxiety of flushed forgetfulness.

Those old folks who

can't. let. go.

Of what they were and who they knew

all of whom have died off and are now just

lumpen masses of memories. NO.

You won't be like them.

Sitting in their lonely life that's now a cloud around their heads.

They can tell you things; Stories, of antique luminosity

with moments of clarity that make their eyes clear and their chins tilt

up as they transform into temporary evidence that

they too

were like you; Presidents of strength unaffected by age.

Watch their eyes then as they glaze once again 

back into their storm of seasonal cycles

reminiscent of the harsh times they have survived.

You swear to yourself: You won't be like them;

tired and aching for relief from their lives

where perpetual pain has become something that must be dealt with 

from the moment they close their eyes to the moment they arise and every second in between

when even dreams are filled

with the memories of time slipped away.

You worry about becoming like them as you pine away in bed

anxious and restless with thoughts from the seconds of the day.

The months. The years. 

turning and returning over

in sleepless frustration. 

No.

You won't be like them.