brace for the landing

just another bout of teen turbulence 

the end is insight, the chase is closing with the college cycles 

waning with the waves that ebb then rise with worry

you’re sprawled against the seat, already debating defeat 

in the meeting where you are vainly blind to yourself in the mirror 

a guise of a girl, hollowed and humbled in the light 

soft shadows drawn in hot pink around her eyes

that shine not glitter but in tears and fears,

knowledge and ignorance, past and present. 

the past is in the clouds but the future is on the ground

where will you go, who will you become?

has the Ferris wheel finally reeled you out of fun  

the descent shakes your stomach to your soul

this motion sickness

it’s not the associated angst the adults assert 

but the likewise feeling of growing old 

merging the cold ground with the cloudy world