Maturity
I remember how it felt to be young
Hiding a pimple beneath a privacy fence
Built from a hand raised across the cheek
Guarding the mark that seemed to bare a resemblance
To sin, silent and soiled, sending a reflection
The disgusting, nasty symbol of youth
I remember working my first job
And feeling sure there had to be some other
Way to make the money that I needed
For the movies, popcorn and York peppermint patties
Served with a coke that would have more ice
Than it needed, leaving my tongue in a deep freeze
I remember longing for the day when I could say
That I was eighteen and capable of doing
Whatever I pleased, anything that I chose to
Even if that meant leaving behind a teddy bear
A pair of roller skates and a basketball
Pieces of my childhood that I would miss one day
I remember knowing that my mom had prayed
For my happiness and my hopefulness
For the moment when I would fall in love for real
With someone who loved me back in a way
That foretold of a future filled with affection
The kind that love stories were written about
I remember the first kiss, the first date, the first
“I love you” that was whispered
The way it felt to know I was pretty to someone
Even if I didn’t feel pretty when I looked into a mirror
The moment when I realized that feelings like these
Were wonders, wonderful, wondrous, genuine miracles
I remember how it felt back then
What I can’t remember or tell you about
Is the moment when I became a woman
Instead of a girl, a woman who knows love
Pain, hope, desperation and worry and fear
No… I don’t remember when I became mature
Feb. 15, 2021
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