Schrodinger's Monster

Being a teenager means

Schrodinger's cat isn't just a concept anymore

The person you are

is simultaneously alive and dead

in the box you were put in

Nothing fits you

not your awkward limbs

not your angry, red skin

not your aching heart or exhausted brain

nothing feels human

And the cardboard walls that were built around you

seem too flimsy for a cage or to be protection

you resent that they were built at all

and so you poke holes for air and anguish

but you shrink back, afraid to show your morphing face

Being a teenager means

waiting with Schrodinger's cat on your shoulder, holding your tongue

until your strike of lightning comes 

and the box is opened, so you find out

if you are dead

or if you have finally come alive.