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I wished to be older,
To have the fun I always thought I was missing out on.
To cut, cook, and plate my food myself without being told I'm too young, too little, not grown up or old enough yet.
I wanted to see what all the fuss was about with all this smoke, bottles, and boys.
I wanted to know what it felt like having the recklessness of an adult.
But I have grown up only to revert back into the child I was, wishing to be younger this time.
I no longer wish to be responsible for myself and to understand why money is low, why the smoke and bottles are an every day hobby, and why boys always come and go.
Being older was never the fun and freedom I thought it was.
Curiosity certainly killed the cat.
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-A.C
YOU ARE READING
a book for thoughts
PoetryA book where I've decided to keep all my poetry that sits in my notes app collecting dust.
