There was a time when you were Sixteen and you were excited about life
Because you could only hope that the world would get bigger than a boys bed
And you were ready to see it for yourself

But now you are Eighteen and you're not sure how you've survived this long
Because you never learned how to sleep on your own

You don't know if the world got bigger, but you can be sure that you grew harder
Sometimes you may see that sixteen year old in your dreams, but she doesn't know you and you can't bring yourself to tell her

All you can do is wish her the best and send her on her way before she tries to fix you too
Because you know she will

Except you can't seem to shake her, and every night she sits in front of you with wide eyes, all while you tell her about who she became

But last night when you looked for your sweet Sixteen, she was nowhere to be found, and in her place was just an old dusty mirror

Maybe you'll cry for her and what she reminded you of
Or maybe you'll have a drink with her name on it, and you'll down the last thought of her

You are sure you won't cry, because Sixteen led to Seventeen, so it wasn't a good year anyway

But you will wish you had told her to remind her future lovers of what she is, you'll wish you had repeated it over and over until it was like a red flag on her head

YOU CANNOT LOVE A LIVE GRENADE UNTIL YOU KNOW WHO PULLED THE PIN
YOU CANNOT LOVE A LIVE GRENADE UNTIL YOU KNOW WHO PULLED THE PIN

But you were set to explode long ago, and you are still picking shrapnel out of your chest

And while you cannot breathe around the ache, you will still secretly hope that Twenty-Something can teach Eighteen a thing or two.