Something about the way she sighs
Always taking those long, drawn-out breaths
Because she once grew so accustomed to taking such long, drown-out drags from her cigarette
Though she broke the habit of smoking
She could never break the habit of breathing so deeply
But you like small sounds

Something about the way she laughs quietly
Like her voice is shy and timid of being acknowledged
But you like small sounds
So you notice

Something about the way she mumbles
In bed, she once whispered, "I'll never leave you"
And you weren't sure if she was awake or asleep
But it didn't matter, you believed her anyway
Because you like small sounds
And you love her quiet way

When I was young, my life was like music that was always getting louder
Everything moved me
A mother with her child
That made me feel so much
A homeless person sitting on the sidewalk holding out a ***** cup for some spare change
I could have cried over it
I did
A calendar that displayed the wrong month
The way the moon followed me everywhere I went
How an unmade bed looked like home
Where the smoke coming from the house across the street disappeared into the sky
Frost on the window of my mother's car
How the earth tirelessly orbited around the sun
The way the city lights looked from afar
I have spent my entire life learning to feel less
Every single day I feel less
Is that growing old?
Or something worse?
I suppose you cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness
But how do you balance yourself between the two without forgetting how to feel altogether?

“Tick, tock,”
says the Clock
No!
Not another day gone?
Just like that?

These days go by
like dust in the wind,
Slipping through our fingers
before they can even begin

Days that quickly turn into weeks,
and weeks that bleed into months
Until another year has gone by,
in just the blink of an eye…

So there’s one thing for certain,
Something wont to be denied:
The constant tick,
of the Clock’s tireless hand,
has us constantly saying goodbye
to Life, one measly day at a time…

And with that thought, I bid adieu
to this past year, too
And welcome yet, another one —
Let’s see how quickly this one dares to run

Uninvited ridges appearing almost instantly on the surface of my skin
My body shy to the feeling they bring
Each one, a dream swelling in a desperate hope to become a reality

        To caress your moonlit skin
        For your lips to pay homage my tingling nape
        To stroke your crescent lips
        For you to cradle my timid being
        To rub your pillowy girth

And as these sensations consummate, each yearning speck will settle back into my heart
Until the next time comes when something small like your touch or your voice summons them back to the semblance of my freckled flesh once again

When I was young I used to think that being an adult meant not having a bed time but I've come to realize that it means being in charge of my own bed time
And it also turns out that doesn't even scratch the surface of what being an adult really means

Being an adult means taking your medication every evening so you don't spiral in and out of depression and sever all stability you worked so long and diligently to obtain
It means drinking a bottle of wine and writing poetry by yourself on a Wednesday night just because it feels nice
It means breaking loose a little and nights out with your friends drinking and having fun, pretending you're still seventeen with no care in the world
It means being completely and utterly vulnerable and throwing yourself out into the world saying, "This is who I am, love me or leave me, but PLEASE just take me as I am!"
It means giving everything and everyone a chance
It means being so **** broke but still feeling accomplished because there is something so wonderful but so terrifying about freedom
It means frantically trying to figure out how you are going to pay your bills
It means working extra hours at work regardless of any leftover time or energy you might have
It means doing everything in your will to preserve that once constant and forever thriving creativity and innocence you had so much of as a child
It means trying to balance out being both ordinary and exceptional
It means realizing you can't escape participating in things you don't necessarily agree with, like paying taxes and getting up and going to that job every morning that you pretend to love
It means being self-sufficient and responsible, even if you don't feel fit to do so
It means telling your family you love them every single chance you get because you now realize how profound your love is for them and how much they truly mean to you
It means recognizing how important and wonderful your parents are, how much they really know, regardless of what you used to think when you were 16 or 17
It means acknowledging the fact that people will disappoint you but you simply can't blame someone for merely being human
But most importantly, it means realizing your own true beauty and purpose

For the first time in my entire life I can look in the mirror and see my body, my skin, my bones, as something charming and beautiful
I've never had a problem finding beauty elsewhere, whether it was in the world, in some small thing, or in someone else, but I could never seem to find it in myself
Until now
I love myself, my body, my mind
I see beauty in my being
I am able to find true beauty within
I look in the mirror and can wonder what my childhood self would think about me now
Is this what I imagined being an adult would look like?
But that doesn't matter because I love who I am now
Sure, I have my vices
And there is always something that I could be working on
But I am finally at home in my body
And it might have taken me 19 years to get here
But I am so happy