Oct 2013
I have let others be young for me
and swallowed years through the saliva of
grown men,
aged to twenty-one
after my first sip of something strong.
The stars
taught me to stay quiet: the brighter I got
farther I had to fall down
(four feet, five feet, five and half).
I never needed to grow up
ached for ancient paintings and literature
in case it would
help me to grow down. Now I am
just two months away from being eighteen
already holding more than a
hundred years
worth of other people inside me
(fifty, twenty-five, fifty-four, thirteen).
and swallowed years through the saliva of
grown men,
aged to twenty-one
after my first sip of something strong.
The stars
taught me to stay quiet: the brighter I got
farther I had to fall down
(four feet, five feet, five and half).
I never needed to grow up
ached for ancient paintings and literature
in case it would
help me to grow down. Now I am
just two months away from being eighteen
already holding more than a
hundred years
worth of other people inside me
(fifty, twenty-five, fifty-four, thirteen).
This is something of a conjoined effort of poems between my friend Reece and I. We decided to both write about growing up, regardless of how different our perspectives were. (Which is kind of natural, considering he is a college-aged male in England, and I am a teenage girl in the United States.)
Reece is a sensational poet, and I highly recommend you read the countering poem to mine. His work can be found here: http://hellopoetry.com/-reece-aj-chambers/
Reece is a sensational poet, and I highly recommend you read the countering poem to mine. His work can be found here: http://hellopoetry.com/-reece-aj-chambers/
