this year has a cold hand pressed against my shoulder
icicles prodding me into a net full of flopping fish
already suffocated with the glittery promises of new beginnings
this year has lingered outside my window
watching me with dark green eyes
coaxing me into the swarm of birds that are going mad
with the wind of glittery promises of new beginnings
this year is not unlike other new years
it is still shiny and blue, uncovered
after a year of trauma and triumph,
dust clouds billow out from underneath it, and I see stars
I see my future lingering in these dust clouds
I see the face of a lover and the faces of children
I see the face of the moon and the face of myself,
old and weathered with years of glittery promises of new beginnings,
clinging onto the wrinkles of my skin,
still begging me to join the masses in their party of resolutions,
in their deciding factor of a change of date for a change of life.
and I resist the magnetic pull of this glitter
and I remain sitting, back going crooked,
content with the life I am already giving myself.
rain your shiny glitter down upon me
it will only fall as a sheen of precious memories
this year will not be a failure for me
I am stronger than the tug of war itself
both teams have lost and I will stand brave and tall
the tug of war rope lays unraveled at my feet
and my eyes sparkle with a thousand new years
that you will never be able to catch
the magic of my impending life will surpass your annual routine of deciding you are not good enough
I am good enough,
I will conquer.
but every day I will stride with the passion of a new year’s excitement at my feet
and I will sing with the power of a ballad sung at a party, 3 thousand voices loud
and I will walk this earth in grace and style
overcome with the ecstasy that is living
alive
this year is not unlike the others
it is I who is unlike