i hate

being on the brink of sixteen

so young and foolish

i hate the thought of college

i hate the thought of driving

i hate the thought of paying taxes

i hate the thought of senior year

i hate the thought of growing up.

but i

can’t slow down

time.

i wish i could.

i can’t conceive the cruel concept of time

it crawls away

i want it back

my sad,

pathetic,

scrap of a childhood that i never had

faded into whatever the hell

i call

“teenage years”.

there is so much to worry about

all of the time

will i even have basic rights when i grow up?

what’s going to happen five years from now?

my friends are going to college when i am a senior

what is car insurance?

i want to save the environment

i want to help people

what would robert f. kennedy say?

stop hyperfixating.

am i real or am i faking it?

harvey milk, i am so sorry

you

deserved

better.

better.

that is what i wanted.

before i hit my teenage years.

better.

why couldn’t i have

a normal

childhood

before

i

grew

older.

being a young adult

without the basic

foundations

without

the proper love

and care

a child deserved

i missed out on it.

this poem was supposed to be about young adulthood

not my sad lack of a childhood

my lack of a mother

(even if she’s physically there)

i know my life can be better.

sure,

i started off sad.

but young adulthood brings me many challenges.

i don’t miss my childhood,

despite wanting to go back and have a proper one.

i don’t miss my horrible

horrible

childhood.

young adulthood gives me so many chances

so many opportunities

.

.

…

i am so close to leaving my hellhole

no longer restrained

by rusty shackles that clink and screech against the floor

i am so close to adulthood

yet i am so afraid of maturing.