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will Aug 28
roaming the streets up late at night,
we kept walking even if its dark.
just followed what feels right,
even if we didn't know where to go.

i remember we're laughing
romanticizing the years,
falling in love and getting drunk,
now im 18 and im terrified.

uncertain about the future
as we long for summer to come back
spent our time distracting ourselves
because we can't be kids again
Even if I have months before turning 18, I have this realization of how turning 18 is a sort of ritual. Where we are stuck in the middle of a transition from being a kid to an adult. This is also the time where responsibilities pile up, where I just wish I was a kid again.
she gave me a box of matches
small enough to rattle between
two of my fingers

in the dark, we sat alone
striking them
and like a magic trick
the light would burst forth
and scatter like laughter
fill the empty breeze
with something warm

we watched the flames
alive and changing
let them grow and crawl
right until they nipped
the tips of our fingers

we’d shake them out
just before we got
burned
watched the smoke
rise and sway, smelled
so sweet, powerful
as the last light
slowly faded
like falling asleep
or turning to stone

over and over
this was transformation
and it was in our hands
over and over
until the box no longer rattled
and before us lay
a pile of ash
a mountain
a change we had caused
thanks for reading
morseismyjam Jun 10
Summer fills me with nostalgia in a way that I cant explain. But when the air hears up and the black ants crawl all over our house I find myself remembering when we covered the window with sheets so we could sleep when it was still light.

Most years I was alone, friends not good enough to contact outside of school.
I stayed up late in bed reading every night. It was during summer that I stumbled on my first podcast, on my first ****** novel, on my first question of gender.
In the heat of summer I sought change. Alone, I struggled with questions of college and career and the future. I despaired, sobbing into my pillow until I fell asleep.

Summer is full of possibility, of the past, of the future.
I caught fireflies out on the lawn, I put cicada husks in a jar and kept a tally, I invented games for myself and my sisters. I work late nights and come home to a warm house. I eat cereal for 3 meals a day.
The rules don't apply to Summer.
Shea Apr 1
Pretty girl
You're afraid, you child
You're gaining weight upon those shoulders
Shoulders used to be bone
Grown muscle
And your heart lost its size

You're no longer small,
Though you feel it.
You miss it.

But your talons
Were ready to strike for years,
Now it's time to spread your wings.
g Mar 29
Driving 90 miles down the highway at 3am on a Tuesday
Night
Hair flying in the backseat radio blasting at 30
the future is bleak
And the past is dreary
18 years old almost on the edge of 19
Emotions seem unbearable and other times weak
Nothing is ever alright I just sit in my room
and imagine myself grown over night
I cant pretend the future isn’t scary id be lying if I said that
I act a 1000 years my age no one understands that
I don’t know my purpose The search might take my lifetime
What happens when the lights go out ?  Am I in heaven ? Am I alright ?
To say I have worries is way over my head, anxiety creeps in while I’m laying in bed
Is it wrong to think I’m meant for more than this life ?
Think positive think positive I’m trying cant you see !
The more I think positive the more unfortunate I believe
anna Nov 2020
16
and here i am,
cleaning myself off my bathroom tiles
in attempt to try again.
but trying again isn't as easy the 4th time around.
i want to be a kid again.
but even at 9 and 10,
11 to 16
being a kid became an adults job.
looking after myself and cleaning the dishes of uneaten food,
cleaning wounds and kissing plasters like my own mother.
i'll be okay.
that's what i'll always say,
and i guess when you say it enough
the lies become the truth
and my eyes blink away my youth.
here i am
cleaning myself off the bathroom tiles
knowing that i have to try again.
i'm 10 months clean and i think it's time to start writing poetry again
Merlie T Oct 2020
I remember these early times
The first
Downtown in the cold
Lights out.
Adults living like heathens
Teens on the streets
My inspiration
The freedom which comes
from taps on bricks
cold air to put
you right back in your body
Frightening.
It was freedom nonetheless
Growing up in Eugene as young teens we would frequent the downtown bus station where scores of transient teens would congregate to talk of life, meaning, use drugs and debate existence after childhoods of parental neglect.
Ishka Mhuul Aug 2020
She learned from a young age that
Rage,
Anger,
Defiance,
Meant nothing.
Not to her
Nor to others.
So she kept silent
As silent as the sun can
When she's raging in the vacuum of space.
Her eyes would ***** with tears
And her jaw would clench in frustration.
But she'd rather stare into hell and cut off her tongue before it meant anything.
She is a patient woman they say,
She is a proper lady
She is as passive as a flower
And as kind as sunlight after a thunderstorm.
She is a balm to the suffering and to the evil.
She is God's child.
But
I have thorns
I can burn you
I can drown you

She has a child’s temper
In a woman’s body.
She weeps alone,
Rages alone,
Starves alone.
She quietens her struggle
And pretends she is only marble.
Grief is an option
And
Anger is a choice.
She chooses neither
So she feels nothing.

How she would like to
Yell and scream!
How she would like to hurt,
To let go
And hold on selfishly to her happiness.
Freedom is an option too.
She does not choose it.
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