Wind in My Hair

The light turns green, every ounce of my body can feel it

Running through my veins like an electric liquid

Neurons firing, the embarrassing sense of nervousness creeping ever so slightly

Freedom; the sweet taste of freedom

Intoxicating breath of freedom is in my lungs as the wind runs through my hair from my window down

I was free and I was growing up.

The car was my paint brush and the town my canvas

I had received the little piece of plastic with my name and picture that said I was allowed to finally paint my canvas

That first green light was the color of freedom

The first taste of adulthood and real responsibility

My senses had never experienced this feeling first hand

Green is what I saw

Car fuel is what I could smell

I could taste the nervousness

I could feel the wind

And I could hear the music blasting maybe a little to loud

I was free and I was growing up.

16 was when it all became real

So close to adulthood yet so far

However, I didn’t need anything else in that moment

The slight pressure on the accelerator in my car was placing the flag on the mountain top on the moon

It was one small step for me, and one big step in my life

I was free and I was growing up.