Twelve is such a frantic, explosive age
To be surrounded by it is to be reminded of the passage of time
I recall my own fierce tempers and mood swings
My fragile friendships,
As passionate as any fairy tale and with, it seemed, as many ogres.
Laughing at jokes that were only funny if you were there, I guess
Being the one who wasn’t there more often than not
The first to fall asleep and the first to wake at every sleepover.
Confused by crushes and boys and subtexts and the whirlwind of evolving teenage language
Blessings on the lack of internet related communication
Paper note passing was fraught enough
I see myself now
Still the first to fall asleep and the first to wake up
Still able to forget to check under the bed, to forget toothpaste
To feel unsteady when not in on the joke
Sensitive, but able to convince myself that time will heal
Desperate to turn my ears off and read a book
In love with my friends and afraid of losing them
Appearing, to the young ones,
As a confident Adult who has Answers to Questions
Who Remembers to Do Things
And I am grateful for the reminders
That let me see how far I have come
But also how I have stayed the same.
* I haven’t written in a while and wanted to force myself to get something, anything, down on the page. School field trip had me ruminating a bit.