The Day I Turned 15 (Again) Poem by Carsten Thomsen

And while the moon
and hidden stars
shone above me

through the
smog ridden
metropolitan sky
I turned 15 again:

sweaty palms,
dry throat and
a heart that would
NOT

stop
beating.
Longing to kiss
and be kissed,

to touch and be
touched,
I gathered up
the courage

to do so,
transforming
the roar of Monsters
of failure

and past regrets
to a silent,
hardly audible,
murmur.

It only happened days ago
and I still
replay our conversation
in my head,

the way your hand
accidentally touched mine,
and all the things
that seemed so

innocent at the time,
looking for a hidden meaning,
over and over again,
trying to figure it all out
and what it all means.
I put my arms around you
in the cab, kissed you,

and prayed
it would never stop
till it did
and you got off

and I turned into my old,
old bitter man,
former self,
somehow thankful

I was momentarily relieved
from being so.