Seventeen

Somewhere between childhood

And standing alone.

Wreaking of confusion and

Rebellion.

Lost 

Yet, not respected

Yearning

I continually yearn to be a child again

Like an addict craves their next high.

Eight years old

The peak of my childhood

Apalled if I didn't find a scripted note from my mother in my lunch

Trotting into class

Third grade

The smell of Clorox and crayons overwhelm my nose.

No worries

If only I could go back

Now

A different world overwhelms me.

Like a baby bird being force fed

Can it stop?

Growing older, this is despise.

It's all just preparing,

preparing for the rest of our lives

But being so young

Seventeen.

Somewhere between allowance and a salary.

Seventeen.