Time As We Know It

art by Lanie Myaing, words by Scarlet M

4,000 Weeks

1,095 weeks ago, I was born.

If I am lucky, in 2,905 weeks, I will die.

I celebrate this birthday with supposedly saccharine

martini recipes my first love taught me 260 weeks ago.

They were how I celebrated my college admission 51 weeks later, 

but I assume they’ll spoil in 469 weeks as I celebrate my marriage.

I never took alcohol well, and my head starts to spin

how it did while I was jerked around on my first roller coaster

and when I tried to come out to my friends 6 weeks ago.

The martini tastes more bitter than I remember.

like the 3 weeks worth of tears after my first heartbreak.

I cried at the flame erupting from the cupcake

celebrating my first 52 weeks of life

and as loud as lions when I lost my first tooth 260 weeks later.

I’m trying to steel myself and stay stone-faced now,

but I will still shed tears when I first feed my baby in 365 weeks.

40 weeks— that’s how long it took for me to say “mama.”

919 weeks later, I’d be crying “mama” at the foot of her hospital bed.

2 weeks after that, I changed into a black suit for the funeral.

2 more, and I changed into her old blazer for an internship,

as if nothing ever happened.

I’ve learned a lot and nothing at all,

for I will still stutter like I did when I first read 887 weeks ago,

and I road raged learning to drive as I will 261 weeks from now,

but none of this matters because 

if I am lucky, in 2,905 weeks, I will die,

and 1,095 weeks ago, I was born.

That’s why I raise a glass today

and down this bitter martini with a smile.