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Let me tell you MAG
LET me tell you what it's like to be 16.
HURT. Some brainiacs who have the world all figured out think that 16 is no big deal. That 16
Is unripe and raw, but let me tell you it is bitter and blue, because we most definitely do NOT have the world all figured out, and the worst part is that we think we do.
LET me tell you
It is DENIAL. It is allowing rain to bomb your face, allowing tornadoes of negative ions to come unintroduced into your Kansas land and rip your fields to shreds, it is fighting a battle after the treaty has been signed, after we have waved the white flag unconsciously
It is DETERMINATION, it is chasing a dream and having your purple painted nails almost wrapped around it, it is then REALIZING that the person you want the most is the person you've created in your mind
It is the person whom you have created that runs the show and you are a clown in their circus. And you make the people laugh and it's YOU whose home is a traveling trailer, in desperate need of a field to rust.
Sixteen is no tea party. Sixteen is a FEELING of deep understanding that you will never be there. That you will never be able to grasp that want, but 16 is ALSO the continuous effort, scheduling your paths to meet theirs, doing the math, failing math, running down the English hall to see the face of whom you can't say you even love anymore. Sixteen is looking down at your purple nails and realizing they're chipped and empty.
Then REALIZING they can hold anything they want in the world and then REALIZING they can hold the entire absence of the world as well.
Sixteen is stretch marks on your butt, and having your friends tell you it's a good thing.
Sixteen is FAILURE, let me tell you. Sixteen is a deep ache in the core of your existence, a stab in the back, a blow to your jaw, 16 is being knocked over again and again, and trying to regain your balance wearing the legs of a two-year-old.
Sixteen is also PRESENT. Sixteen is also a long thin strand of heartbeats and 16 is also defined by the way your fingers slam the snooze button, let me tell you, 16 is getting out of bed.
Sixteen is growing pains. Sixteen is stretching and learning and twisting in our thirsty mouths the letters of which love are formed with, testing and spitting out our results till one day we taste gold.
Let me tell you, 16 is trial and error.
Let me tell you, 16 is a metronome of hiccups.