Adulthood Ain't No Joke

I woke up last night,
this poem pushing its way out of the softness
of my belly.
I was trying to get back to that room
in that city,
that cold bedroom
with wood floors,
and rain on the window
that faced a city street.
Trying to get back to
that too big house
with rented rooms
where my bed was small,
and life was long,
and you were so close,
and I was trying to make rent,
trying to make something
out of myself.
In a sweat,
I reached for you across our too big bed
and held you close
trying to get back there
to that room
trying to get back to
before
when there were moments
to catch one's breath
when there was room for boredom.
Not forever, but for a moment,
I wanted to get back there.

I have been waiting to want to write a poem for a long time. Nothing has really inspired me in the way that would make poems pour out of me in the past. I've also guarded a lot of myself when it came to writing which stems from an emotionally abusive relationship that especially affected my belief in my writing. It's something that needed to be said, and it is what it is. I will work with it, and I'm just grateful that I have something to work with. Last night, in the midst of being completely overwhelmed by my more-demanding-than-ever-new job, the death of my sixteen year old cat, Lucas getting sick and getting better, and losing my wallet and everything in it including lots of things one shouldn't carry, this poem jumped out of me last night. It's an admission, a confession, that sometimes, I miss being young and stupid and not tied to a mortgage, a career and a baby. To be clear, I don't mean that I would trade my life now for my life then and change what I have now, I would just like to go back and enjoy it a little more. I didn't know how easy I had it!