I wanted to own time
as if I had some inherent right to it
to youth and hope and excess
because eternity feels real
when you’re young
I thought I was different
somehow impervious
to the inevitability of living,
of life
It was pure arrogance
or stupidity
I was naive
Now, the days are inappropriate
each one an affront
that I should keep living
this aging, useless body
dreams, unrealized
potential turned
to smoke and shadow