Point of Collision

We’re only young once, we’ll all consider
Coming up from our stupor slightly more bitter
And some people don’t believe in the tree of life
I’d rather cut it down with a hunting knife
Who am I to capture death?
I try to perceive the point of being left
This world is like a cold
Trying to figure out why my soul must be sold
It’s impossible to get by without these skills
Separate ourselves from those cheap thrills
A motive to change at any given time
A new me is born, and the old one dies
It’s hard to determine why

It’s funny the way we sabotage ourselves
And how we somehow camouflage ourselves
Just long enough to get out
Youth doesn’t like a crowd
It’s just one brief, fleeting escape
Until we reincarnate

And you feel this all the time
As we stare up at the night sky
Wondering who made us and why
Our hands pressed tightly to our mouths
Curse the words and the sounds
We don’t share our secrets or dreams
We just keep them in our pockets and believe
We hold onto the things we think are right
At least until we’re old enough to die

Our hearts are molecules
Our eyes are shallow pools
Our time is proof, as we wither gracelessly
That we lived our lives tastelessly
My clenched fist through the wall
I can feel the blood as it rolls off
And permeates my time here on Earth
Planting seeds for my rebirth
You pull me aside like there’s a forest awake somewhere
I was taught not to lie, not to swear
If the planets collided now, will I have lived?
We never gave all we had to give

You put this blood between my veins
You gave me these hideous growing pains
I cried and made the clouds rain
My existence is a stain
There is no in, and there is no out
That’s just the way we’re brought about
Nothing is a surprise essentially
It’ll all sort itself out eventually

Point of Collision

Jascie Epinn

Joined January 2009

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 4

Artist's Description

One of the main themes of my writing has been, and likely will continue to be, the concept of youth. It drives me insane and fascinates me in every sense. What is youth? How do we break this down and define what it actually is?

In this poem I’ve written simply about my experience growing older, getting married, moving out and so forth – how you never really feel like you’ve accomplished enough. The beautiful, blissful thing about youth is that it’s fleeting – it comes and goes so quickly. For something so bitter, so exciting, and so important; it takes a toll then leaves like it never came. Mixed in are my thoughts about the idea of reincarnation; a valid concept. I believe in it, to a degree. My husband in particular is very non-religious, but has admitted to entertaining the thought of reincarnation. To me, it’s interesting how that would work. I wonder if we would recall thoughts and feelings from past lives – or if we’d subconsciously be aware that we have been reincarnated. It’s a pertinent and time-consuming thing to roll over (haha).

That being said, I’d never want to be 17 again. No, no. I’m not going back there.

Artwork Comments

  • Aleksandar Topalovic
  • poeticgenius
  • Jascie Epinn
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