Grown

Mama and Papa were always grown.

They had grown folks’ drinks and conversations.

And for as long as I had known,

My youth was a part of my identification.

The “child” label made sense, too.

Most things were easy, and I didn’t pay no bills.

Then one day the many simple things became the few.

I was planning to make a future out of my skills.

I started making my own money,

And adults were speaking to me in different tones.

But it wasn’t until I was in the store comparing types of honey,

That I realized maybe I, too, was grown.