i turn eighteen today
and there are no words to describe it
it's weird to know
that i will never
be younger than i am right now.
you're at a crossroad of conflict
eighteen years young
eighteen years old
half of you wishes for adulthood
for the smell of freedom
the chance to begin a world you call your own
to explore your potential
the other half wishes to bury it's face in your mother's skirt
scared to leave
unsure of what the next move is
because no one is there to tell you
eighteen years young
eighteen years old