Here we are
We have finally made it
At this fine hour we cross over
We are no longer part of the group known as minors
Now in the state's eyes we are “adults”
But are we really ?
No, we are not.
I cannot possibly feel like an adult for I can not behave like one
People still say “hey kid”
People deny me from buying my own cigarettes
But if I'm still a kid then why am I working as hard as my parents?
Why am I living on my own in my mother's home?
Why am I allowed to enjoy other people but not enjoy a smoke once in awhile?
Why am I able to give my life for this country but not buy a drink?
If we sit here and think
About what it means to be eighteen
We soon we will see
That there really is no meaning.

I could delve deep into my self named brain,
or just trickle yours,
I'm the trickster of the lame and helper of the poor, minded.

Ill come at you until you gobble all I have to say you'll have to force it out like puke. So take a deep breath, let the venom in these words seep into your eyes and travel through the chains and locks reflex-fully shut on your heart, to the deepest most brittle parts of your fingernails. Let this feeling bring frisson to your back and spine, give it the power to move your body, slash at your sleep and keep you ever so small at night. Let yourself sleep.

Im not one for romance but

Her hair, all of the beauty leftover from a palette after a masterpiece is created, who said brown was the colour of ****?
Her eyes, the green of mother nature that gives my heart a buzz to infinity and beyond.
Her nose, the reason I need to smell good.
Her lips, the cushions that keep me up at night.
Her smile, a capital U, the bliss that eclipses my own and blacks out my thoughts whilst it revs my heartbeat.
Her voice, it can babble on like early civilisations but im happy I met-her, for I have so much love to give.
Her words, have magnitude to dig holes which would make the sea sunk and send waters to hell to drown my demons, my own revelation.
Her jokes, they're pretty bad actually however
Her laugh, a record stuck on repeat of all the things I want to hear, the perfect rhythm that sets my soul ablaze and makes me laugh back senselessly.
Her hugs, a second home that has everything right with the world inside.
Her love, the warmth that sinks its way into every crevice of my heart, with the heat to break bedrock and boil Satan to the heavens, a heatwave of affection that I could surf like a beach ***. I love her, I love

You.
Until time is forgotten or matter and anti-matter stop fighting.

I will think about you.
The reason I'm still writing...a silly love poem.

Today
It's 12:51 am
I am 18 years old
I made it
Whatever "it" may be
I can't decide if I'm excited for this millstone
Or upset
That I can't stop its progression
I know I should be happy that I made it this far
But now
My 18 year old self
Sits in her room
Eating from a can of Pringles
Confused and wondering
How I got to be this old
How I never planned for any of this and
Dropping chip crumbs in my notebook
I assume I won't last
Though that's what I've been saying
Since I was 13
And I'm not sure
Where I am now

I’m not loud,

I’m not aloud,

I’m not allowed.

I’m the exception.

I’m the definition.

I’m the truth and the dark.

I don’t bite but watch out for my

bark

peeling off.

Cover your eyes so you can see

what’s oozing out of me,

the radiation gleam.

Obscene dream,

ladies in Vaseline.

Malignant wishes from a benign entity.

Change everything.

I carry water and arrows and my hooves smash the stars.

Peregrinus.

it never bothered me to see

someone so crossfaded until i saw you and even

though i was still sipping your licorice *****

and my thoughts were a galaxy

sized mess after 1:30 i was so worried

about you and you’re the only thing

i remember clearly

from the night i turned 18.

-*z. vega

dressing up,
not giving a ****,
we drive deep into the heart of the night,
'cause this day is gonna be tight.
The big 18,
at last.
Dressed up in the finest clothes,
going on a hit in the town.
Going wherever the **** I please.
I don't know who didn't tell ya,
but I'm done giving a ****.
I'm going, music pumpin' through the speakers,
the smoke rollen deep in my lungs.
I can't take the life anymore,
so i leave it behind.
I'm here
I'm out
ready to start again.
Its me and the tux,
a friend or two,
and we ride off in the summer city lights.
So,
sorry, sorry
I've left my place,
I'm never going back,
job in lace.
**** me, or let me live,
I'll have fun either way.
I've waited 18 years for this,
***** I'll do as I please.
Too bad,
I'm only 15.
I can dream.
I can Imagine.
Leaving This Place.
It will be tuxedo friday,
cruising away,
and leaving this past life
*behind

I walk into my room and kick the heater over to stop it from blowing hot air in my room. It's boiling in here. I kick off my pants and lay on my bed. *Why is life so hard?