Twenty-Four, Candidly | Violet Piper

the thing about being twenty-four
is that everyone’s childhood dog dies

you start to repeat your stories;
you sound like your mom

you feel so grateful for your mom you can’t stand it

your boyfriend has a beard

and the people who used to have boyfriends become brave enough to have girlfriends

and you realize you’ve never been brave

you just didn’t know how pain worked yet;
you didn’t understand the mechanics

you wonder where your bullies are now?

you come to terms with your face

you don’t come to terms with your dad

you repeat your stories of your mom and your dad and your bullies and the terrible things you thought about your face to the people you fall in love with

you learn the mechanics of pain through love

and you miss your dog
and all of the other dogs.

Violet Piper is a writer, musician, artist’s assistant, camp director, and astrophysicist from Brooklyn. She has published essays, poems, and stories in Slate, The Blue Mountain Review, Harpur Palate, and more.