Eighteen,

that age you turn when

the world slaps that,

I’m an adult,

sticker on you,

the majority of people are excited

to get that sticker,

hell I was one of those people,

and felt so much excitement

when I woke up on that last of being considered a child,

those butterflies in my stomach

fluttered with joy,

until they were killed

by the pesticides of reality,

my lungs caved in by the toxic truth,

I’m not ready to grow up,

I’m still a child on the inside,

I need to get a job

that will help me keep myself up

on my feet and pay bills and taxes,

I’m still going to be a nuisance to my parents, the freedom I never noticed is escaping me,

I don’t want that sticker no more,

but I don’t have a choice,

I can’t freeze or reverse time,

so you know what,

I’ll just smile it all off,

like I did the six years

before 18