We are teenagers, judgmental, crazy,
adulthood seems irrelevant, but
we are listening
We are teenagers, moody, sassy, we
no longer taste only the sweetness in every person's "smile" but
we are growing
We are teenagers, skeptical, unsure,
br
o
ken
Pretty little lies, rolling off our tongues like
beads of water sliding down a glass of iced tea
left on the patio table but
we are truth
We are teenagers, in love, heartbroken,
changing our skins and clothes every day, but
we are here
We are teenagers, wildfires, each our own inferno, collage made of us, burning everything but
we are learning
We are teenagers, butterflies with wings unfurling, do not touch then
try to catch us, I dare you, we are soaring so high, too high
gonna have to come down eventually but
not while we are beautiful
We are teenagers, try not
to breathe in adulthood yet, don't
try to Calm us while we are still Chaos, this
is who we are, cracked but not shattered,
make the lights flicker over distorted faces, Picasso painting but
we are etcetera
We are teenagers, full of bubbles, and
sirens going off, parents want a one-on-one, something's goin' down.
Bitter smile at the words,
"We want to help you be yourself!"
You're not letting me be myself.
Questions.
Are you pregnant? WHAT.THE.HELL
Have someone special in your life? Maybe
Scatter the colored pencils across the floor
listen to the lead break inside,
heard but
not heard, just like
teenagers
We are teenagers, so not ourselves,
or perhaps more ourselves than we will ever be again,
tragic remainders of our parents, us, their do-overs, they try, we
do not comply
Us, teenagers, tasting the sky,
breaking down cardboard boxes, ripping
pages out of books, using up all the ink so we can tattoo the Us on shreds of trees and
scatter their tears on our arms
We are teenagers, hopeless and hopeful, so wrong
but someday we will be right,
turning late nights into early mornings, so spontaneous,
unravelling all the ribbons of life and placing the pieces on our tongues so that
we might taste the sweetsourtangyspice of
mistakes and remake and cups full of clouds
we are teenagers but
We Are The Future
We are not gone
More by Stargirl
-
A Letter for Everyone on YWP – One Last Time
Dear YWP,
The first time I wrote you a letter I was 13.
The second, 15.
I'm 18 now; how time flies, my lovely people.
And this is the last letter.
-
...
If it weren't for the sky, I’m not sure where we’d be.
The sky can never be us, we are not the passing clouds, but
-
Papa Simmons; 5/3/2024
Hello sweetheart!
My goodness, how time has flown.
You used to be so little, do you remember?
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