This moment is fleeting 

I keep thinking about how I'll miss my brother once I leave for school again

forgetting that the little time I do have is spent soliciting my worries to future dates 

compartmentalizing my stresses into fine lines and wrinkles that'll open themselves for

me once I'm "of age".

I forget, of course that this moment is fleeting

that I've spent my time yearning for the past presently throwing away the now and in

the future I'll ask "where did it go?"

it went where the wild things grow.