Tall

Eager for the future and wistful for the past
Did four year old me know I would envy her so?
Age is not just a number, it is a burden
The slope of my shoulders, the lines of my frown

My vantage point has changed now that I’m tall
And I’m old and I’m tired and I’m only seventeen
I can’t vote, I can’t drink, I can’t speak for myself
My body is owned by another person

Which is just as well because this body does not feel like mine
I absentmindedly pull off my skin and discard it
Courage is a currency that is easy to fake
So yes, I am steady and tall and strong and grown

Do not pull back the curtain, it is all that is left
To protect the precious nothing that is mine
I will stand up tall and carry my burdens
I have so much left to endure
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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