Now That I'm Thirty-Four
There are so many things in my hands now,
I just can't handle them anymore.
I need to learn to let them go,
now that I am thirty-four.
Somewhere in the way,
in my pursuit to fill my emptiness,
I ended up losing control,
I went too far.
My hands cannot hold this galore,
I cannot tame the beast I became.
I barely have time to write me a birthday poem
as I used to do
when emptiness used to leave me time to write.
Now life is not empty,
but my schedule is highly overbooked,
I can hardly find time to breathe,
I'm always busy, overtired,
short-tempered, about to explode.
Another collapse is coming,
I can feel in the air,
I can even tell how it smells.
Yes, I know another collapse is coming
because now there are so many things in my hands
that I cannot even give myself the birthday claps.