A Collection of Poetic Thoughts

(Don't) Rush Me

When I was 14, it was time for change.

A new school, fresh start.

Faces flying by like whizzing darts.

It made me want to stop

And stay.

When I was 15, I slept in the snow.

A circle of socks that weren't our own.

Five pairs of feet, near cold to the bone.

They made me want to freeze time

And just laugh for a while.

When I was 16, I heard stories.

"Red against yellow; kill a fellow.

Red against black; friend to Jack."

It made me want to grow up

And disappear.

When I was 17, I met a boy.

Mud in his eyes, ink on his back.

Scratched hands and thoughts stained black.

He made me want to grow up

And take in strays.

I don't know how old I am now.

Shaky breaths, a wary heart.

Unsure of my choice to pursue art.

I don't want to grow up.

I am not ready.

January 2015