ジュウガツザクラ (jugatsu-zakura)
You say
“when I was your age - ”
“I remember when - ”
“focus on the important things - ”
“why aren’t you more like -”
Your words are locks clipped to my skin
weights pulling it down
as if to expose the actor behind the screen.
But there is no screen.
There is only me.
But ‘me’ is not what you want, is it?
It’s 'you’.
it hurts.
'It’s worthless.’ 'A waste of time.’
Maybe to you, it is. But
It helps me grow.
It makes me happy.
I like it.
Why aren’t these good enough reasons?
You don’t understand.
You don’t have to understand.
I only need you to accept
that I won’t flourish the way you did
in the time you did
nor how you did.
My adversities are my own.
My mistakes are my own.
The world shifts, the season shifts.
My triumphs are precious, even if they wilt overnight.
My tragedies are not trivial, even if they are as small as
a 2D glitch on a high-resolution monitor
a lost knick-knack
an impossible dream, picked too soon
already dead before it touches the ground.
My successes are not your successes
and my losses are not your losses.
Where were you when I first saw my words
printed for the world to view
a showy display for people to pick apart and ruin
but mine all the same.
Where were you when I cried over that boy
the one you didn’t know about
because you wouldn’t have liked him anyway.
Where were you when -
I can’t remember it now
but I remember you weren’t there.
You mean well but you wouldn’t understand.
I don’t expect you to.
I just need you to know that I’m not you
nor will I ever be you.
The jugatsu-zakura blooms when the others are asleep
but look at how the masses marvel over it in winter.
“when I was your age - ”
“I remember when - ”
“focus on the important things - ”
“why aren’t you more like -”
Your words are locks clipped to my skin
weights pulling it down
as if to expose the actor behind the screen.
But there is no screen.
There is only me.
But ‘me’ is not what you want, is it?
It’s 'you’.
it hurts.
'It’s worthless.’ 'A waste of time.’
Maybe to you, it is. But
It helps me grow.
It makes me happy.
I like it.
Why aren’t these good enough reasons?
You don’t understand.
You don’t have to understand.
I only need you to accept
that I won’t flourish the way you did
in the time you did
nor how you did.
My adversities are my own.
My mistakes are my own.
The world shifts, the season shifts.
My triumphs are precious, even if they wilt overnight.
My tragedies are not trivial, even if they are as small as
a 2D glitch on a high-resolution monitor
a lost knick-knack
an impossible dream, picked too soon
already dead before it touches the ground.
My successes are not your successes
and my losses are not your losses.
Where were you when I first saw my words
printed for the world to view
a showy display for people to pick apart and ruin
but mine all the same.
Where were you when I cried over that boy
the one you didn’t know about
because you wouldn’t have liked him anyway.
Where were you when -
I can’t remember it now
but I remember you weren’t there.
You mean well but you wouldn’t understand.
I don’t expect you to.
I just need you to know that I’m not you
nor will I ever be you.
The jugatsu-zakura blooms when the others are asleep
but look at how the masses marvel over it in winter.