By Oliver Portillo | BA English, Stage 2
I look back at him, swarmed in tragedy.
Is he a different person now, aged twenty?
This is the third decade, I’ve managed two.
Who am I and what have I done here?
My life is flicking by in shades of blue, black and white
Can this frozen heart flutter with its ancient fire?
A vivid kind of ecstasy bewilders me at this age,
Am I the only one who wants to pause but not restart?
At thirteen, a wickedness hung in the air like a mourning,
Do I know when the black storm ceased its roaring?
Yes, I left it in the second; when I turned seventeen.
Who was I to have all that heart, and not enough reason?
This is the third decade, all is majestic here.