Seventeen is shamelessly begging for an attempt at childhood
after you have devoted each year since birth to the preparation
of becoming a voice to be heard and ultimately reckoned with.
Observing your body transform from bud to tree to flower to fruit;
waiting impatiently for equinoxes and solstices to pass.
This year you are determined not to waste these ephemeral moments
and amass new emotions to glide into the pages of scrapbooks.

Therefore, you resurface this starving suppressed ambition and use it! 
Use it to write a letter to your first love; to bite the hands of men;
to sneak out because this is liberty before the consequences. 
Life is subconsciously sneaking up from behind your back and watching
for when you find the courage to turn and coldly stare it in the eyes.
You will see a cloudy reflection of satisfaction and regret, 
and perhaps be content with these notions in knowing you are alive.
Before the day that your adulthood arrives in its impending
finality, challenge time to a race of stillness as you cherish
these few sweet seconds of finishing last in the game of seventeen.