At Your Back (poem)

By Luke Labern

These cycles of life have been with me since I can remember—
Innocence, love, shyness; self-effacement, breaking away,
Splintering, growing, looking down, looking up,
But never at anyone other than my future self:
Breaking every rule, foreseeing my own death,
Breathing deeply at the idea of success:
Finishing my education even though I knew better.
Biding my time and feeling bad about it
Spending birthdays in the bliss of potential
And the worship of the future:
Not to mention in tears, overwhelmed
By the beauty of life, by the beauty of me,
The fact that I am slowly dying,
The fact that I wouldn't change a fucking thing—
Not one decision, not one mistake,
For every single thing I've ever done—it's mine
And I would never change who or what I am.
That's the spine you can't see
That's the spirit you can't measure
That's why you always look up to me
That's why I'm the one with the treasure—
And you know who has the hardest task?
The one who is the treasure: holds it, does it, becomes it.
I don't and can't respect you
Because I'm so far past all the things that matter to others
I was born dead at one; I've only just begun:
I was born aged twenty-one. Racing up on twenty-five
I've never felt more alive.
I've barely touched the needle to the record
I'm posthumously played
I was born to live after The End.
I was born to be more than your friend
Totally inverted: you love me most when you hate me
—Who wouldn't hate who's always right?—
Don't think I don't know you hate that you love me, too.
The only time you ever want darkness is when you're standing in the light.
I was born in the day; I come alive at night,
In the autumn, when the wind bites at your fingers
And warms your soul.
That's where the protagonist lives
That's where the man of the year resides
That's where unambition goes to die.
You think you see me when you see me
But you don't even catch a shadow:
Even that's too much for you to know.
Don'y worry about tracing the thought:
I do it so you don't have to.
I was born an infinity ago
In the heart of a dark star
A black hole too strong to pass
Without losing something of yourself.
Don't worry: I use all I learn
And I work more than I'll ever earn.
You don't have what I want:
How could you ever pay me?
If you had seen all the notes I'd written
You'd have no energy to consume the fruit:
That's why I hide myself in myself
Consumed by the intensity of a man born dead,
Who hands you the sweetest gift from the darkest place.
These cycles have been cruel and yet profound
But now is the time: I'm breaking new ground.
Once—once—it was:
"will your ambition survive?"
Now it's:
"What time shall I arrive?"