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.

This entry was posted in creative, personal, Poem, school, Uncategorized, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s