time & me

justam

I wish it was yesterday
or last week
or last month
that I learned to speak

not tomorrow
or next year

I’m so sick of being slow to know
sick of being behind
I’m so tired of not seeing right away
so tired of being blind

I’m too quiet and
it takes me too long
I turn around
and everyone’s gone

why can’t I be quicker?
why can’t I understand when I need to?

I could kick myself now
and the bruise probably won’t show
until Winter's first snow