But First You Have To Love Yourself
Raud Kennedy
Maybe moving back to the town
I grew up in was a complete mistake,
just chasing twenty year old ghosts.
When I left, everyone was older than me.
Now I’m one of them. The old.
Gray beard, anonymous pains that find
a new spot to warm each morning.
When I last lived here I was a punk,
and if that punk sat
next to my current self,
he’d smirk and chuckle,
not recognizing himself.
And I’d grumble about sitting
next to a know nothing
dolt.