my final days of being 15 and it feels weird. 16 is mysterious and free. every high school movie centered around 16. it is new, fresh, hip, cool. only one year of being 16. blaming it on my age for my behavior. allowed to make mistakes and get fucked up on the weekends. make new friends and kiss boys whenever you feel like it. 16 is better days. the future. it’s so bright, i can’t even open my eyes. i’m scared for this transition. this new feeling. another year my skin stretches. and this year it will stretch new limits. I will be a good sixteen year old. I will paint my face, my hands, my pages with words and thoughts that will live forever. these years mean something. they mean everything. and I really don’t want to waste it. being 16 means learning and growing. it means crying, drinking, falling, moaning, dancing, singing, screaming, studying, eating, dreaming, loving, wanting, longing, wishing, running, writing, laughing, smoking, shopping, cleaning, sobbing. living.
“did you wake up feeling different? another year, new skin, old brain.”