in the kitchen, she moves like a storm
quiet, yet loud in her own way
her footsteps so loud and abrupt
she does as she pleases
leaving crumbs in her wake
clattering pots and pans
shes allowed to leave clothes on the floor
to take up space
to growl at the sky when the sun doesnt shine right
and we-
we are just the air around her
invisible unless needed
her mood dictates the mood of our home
we move hoping not to disturb her
for it will shape our breath
define our hours
make or break the day before its even begun
we smile while the tears form in our eyes
we hold still when we want to break
we tear ourselves apart to fit the form of her needs
shaping our lives to her wants
until we forget the shape of who we are

𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝙸 𝚊𝚖, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚠.
𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚠.
𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎.
𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚕𝚍, 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚗.
𝙾𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎.
𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚎.
𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝙸'𝚖 𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚝.
𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝.
𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 say 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚒s 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝.
𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝.
𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚊𝚢 "𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎"
𝙾𝚛 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚒 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎

today i turned 17
another year onto my life
another candle on the cake;
closer to being an adult
or
closer to my death
my perception of aging has always been obscured
unsurety fills me not knowing what lies ahead
but i no longer want to live "unsure"
im determined to live this last year of being adult-free ;
with no worries, no doubts
to live surely in everything i do
ill update again in 365 days.