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Kate Deter Aug 2014
Eighteen years.
Eighteen long years I've lived on this planet,
Slaving away as another conformist to most rules
(But only so I could survive
And get an education, despite the breakdowns
As my mind couldn't handle the pressure
Of today's expectations).
At times I thought I wouldn't make it;
My lows were... pretty low;
They sometimes cancelled out the highs completely,
Or at least made them seem not so high.
But somehow, I made it,
Along with all the other eighteen-year-olds.
And so I say, congratulations.
We made it.
We may be beaten, bruised, and battered,
Broken, cracked, and frayed,
But we're here.
Brace yourselves.
We're in for a whole new set of challenges.
I do not want to be 18 anymore,
Because all I do is buy cigarettes.
& when I smoke them I think of you.

I do not want to smoke Mary-Jane.
Because when I'm high,
I still only think of you.

I do not want to get drunk anymore,
Because I'm tired of hearing my friends say "She's gone,"
Every time I ask to speak to you.

I do not want to stay awake all night,
And leave cuts on my wrists,
"I'm sorry," I'd say, "I was just thinking of her."

I never asked for this,
I try not to think about you,
So all I can tell myself is, "You left her."
I've never regretted something so much in my life. I'm broken, sorry.
Sarah Michelle Jun 2014
You don't know
what's going for you.

This is good.

Give it a chance.

Get your hands out of your pants
There is no need
to feel a little more
at home
Get a **** hatchet for
Pete's sake
open that melon of a face
Watered-down?
Add sugar
"Home isn't what's up"
Even ask the rice cooker
It broke eighteen years ago
so now it just burns everything
the way the mom
burns the dad's bacon
And doesn't it just make your head spin
how meat passes through
without making you
any stronger
than the day before when
the neighbors
got everyone drunk on their
very own cyanide?
But give it a chance
Hell,
any new place is an adventure.
Please.
You don't know
what will happen you're not
a freaking oracle, a job left
for debate
in the same category as
freaking poppies
and whether or not they
should even be flowers.

Smell them.

Fraud.
For Megan, my cousin who graduated last night, and her ex-boyfriend (a marine, I think). I wrote this when I thought they were still getting married and was thinking, "What the heck, go ahead! Who cares what they say!" Also, a rant about the suburbs--I'm so glad and proud that she has made it out of them alive.
PrttyBrd May 2010
At 18 you are not who your parents perceive you to be
At 18 the mistakes you make are yours alone
At 18 you learn life's lessons can be brutal
At 18 you think a broken heart is a mortal wound
At 18 you don't know who you are
At 18 you have dreams

At 18 the world is yours
At 18 you CAN do anything
At 18 you can be who you want to be
At 18 you can make your own choices
At 18 setbacks do not defeat you
At 18 you are free

At 18 there is always time
52314
xoK Mar 2014
in high school
    i wrote my obituary.
i was certain i wouldn't make it
                        past age eighteen.
i figured                                          
since my future was so clouded,
                 it was not invisible;
               it was nonexistent.
it seemed                                        
others could look ahead to their dreams,
                                                    but not me.
i figured                                          
it would be some freak accident.
a car crash
or a robbery.
don't ask me why.
that's just what i thought.

                    but here I am
          almost twenty.
look at me now.
my future is still uncertain,                      
          and i don't know where my path will lead,
                               but i know for sure
that i want your footsteps to mark the dirt next to mine.
i can't quite see in the dark,                  
and i'm still finding my way.
but if the only definite thing for me right now
                    at the end
                             is you,
                                                  i am content.
LDR life. Thanks for being my something to live for.

— The End —