If who I was a year ago

Was to be compared to myself today

Who I was

Was molten,

Floating on this hot air

Of still having time to hover

Suspended in liquid potential

Free from molding myself

Into some specific model of adulthood

 

Time has crept by and I

Was not ready for the hiss

Of dwindling childhood

Or the steam

Of dreams unfulfilled

Wafting away

Under the constant

Torrent of time

 

I have hardened

While still trying to float

Like I was molten

I do not think it

 A good transition

I failed to file out imperfections

Of what I could do

Versus what I actually do

 

So I guess that now

A year later

I have learned to hold myself differently

More aware of imperfections

That I have been

Sculpted of

And ask more keenly

“What is it exactly

That I am working on?”