poetry by jungenwunder

gauntlet

tw: just angst

~when i was young, i wanted to be the first chair of the second violin section in the symphony of the city i grew up in. i played for ten years, gave it everything i had, and it wasn't enough. i had to walk away and leave those dreams behind. i sobbed while i wrote this, so maybe it isn't my best work, but it's what i had in me tonight~

written on: august 29, 2024

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i ran the gauntlet

i ran the gauntlet for ten damn years

and in the end, it broke me

it started when i was eight

i was so eager, so ready to learn

it was much harder than i anticipated

d-a-d songs and scales like abcs

i ran through the mud and the hail and the sunshine

insults stuck in my skin like spiked arrowheads i could never quite get out

it nearly ended when i was eleven

i often wonder if it would've been easier to part with had i left it there

but i grew up and we grew intertwined

sound in my head, in my veins, in my wrists and hands and fingertips

i knew it could not last forever

dreams are only for the sleeping, after all

so it ended when i was eighteen

put my bow in my case and never took it out again

but it hit me when i was twenty, sitting in my junior year dorm room

i finally figured out that i had lost

the gauntlet had broken me

it did not break me during

no, it broke me after

it broke me in the silly dreams of a child

it broke me in the jaded world view of a teenager

it broke me in the pieces of an adult

pieces i used to play that now only play through my headphones, through my tears