It is proven that we are all made of stars.
Not just one but multiple.
We were once tiny little particles that grew under pressure,
And shined bright for millions of years.
That was until we were released into the universe,
For a new life to be led.
I believe the people we meet in this world,
Those we have an instant connection with,
Share a star with us.
We recognize them because we once spent millions of years with them.
Growing.
Changing.
Developing in the same pressure.
I believe that our soulmates are made up of the exact same stars as us.
The same elemental composition.
It is the reason we are so comfortable.
Why they feel like home.
It is the home we knew for millions of years.
The twin flame of our soul.

Am I too young to miss the past
Am I too old to enjoy the rain
Too young to notice the change
Too old to be immature

Or maybe too young to think when to blink
in fear I’ll miss the bliss if I stop to think

Or maybe age isn’t real
Just there to control when we do what
When we should be embarrassed to cry,
or when to start to live our lives,
and with a blink of an eye
you’re caught barely alive,
wore out from existence of time

I’m the smart one,
They always say.
But I can’t spell February
Without whispering it under my breath.
It takes me five minutes.
To spell a word
And a whole day
to spell out what I need.

I don’t know how to do my taxes.
But I know how to call the pharmacy.
I know how to sit beside red,
Old and stubborn,
And blue,
Young and breaking.
I know how to translate pain
Into prescriptions,
How to smile when I want to scream
Into a pillowcase.

I’m only 21.

I want to kiss someone
because I like them,
Not because I’m running out of time.
I want to be drunk in a parking lot,
Laughing about nothing.
I want to have a boyfriend
And forget to text him back.
I want to dye my hair and regret it.

But they need me.

They say they’re fine—
But it’s 102 degrees inside
And I’m sticking to the floor.
If I stop moving,
I might melt.
I might disappear.

There’s only one of me.

I was supposed to be the baby.
Now I baby everyone else.
I rock the house to sleep
With grocery lists and gas bills.
No lullabies, just stopping an argument
No cartoons, just stopping a meltdown

I want
A life where I can be
Irresponsible.
Where I can be loud,
Messy, wrong.
Where I don’t have to be
Strong
To be loved.

I want a life that doesn’t only begin
After everyone else’s ends.

Old habits stick
Like I'm covered in glue
It makes me sick
I can't get them off
No matter what I do

They stain my hands
Stick to my skin
They're outside of me
And within

I try to peel
To scrub and change
But healing and growth
Still feels strange

Highways go on forever
intertwining suburban homes;
where boys are loved into men;
then drive away