syllables to words to full on paragraphs -- paper,
entombed in equations
with a sense of finality.

I can do that --
find the limit of a function as it approaches zero,
run until my heart gives out,
recite until my tongue is sore.
I can do that.

Eager to prove, and even more to disprove
the innocence that swells in their presence
because I laugh
out
loud
when they say I'm a child.

Seventeen.
Too old to make a careless mistake
Too young to be considered for anything
Too inbetween to be categorized accurately

Seventeen.
Old enough to make my own decisions
Young enough to get away with it
Perfectly in the middle for the comfort of others,
and
             too much so for your own comfort.