These are not the glamorous days.
The glory days.
The days you can later tell someone about.
That time you lived in Chile is not now.
These are the afterthought.
The long days.
We weren’t prepared for these days.
We were prepared for those days.
We were ready.
Now we are not.
They said it would happen.
I believed.
But it’s always different in the light
The dark is darker in the light of today
Summer was better than summers before
Now old skin is too small
What is this culture that is mine?
This teacher is not my kind of teacher.
These friends are not my type of people.
This family, this house, are still mine,
But that is all.
Same old is not so the same.
Who am I?
Ignorance is bliss.
This is the result of a lack thereof.
