17

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Stuck in the space between adolescence and independence

I’m too young to thrive yet too old to be nurtured

I’m told that I can ‘take it’ but I can’t express what ‘taking it’ feels like

So instead I rely on others to describe who I am, the version of who they want me to be

And I swallow it like paracetamol

Digest it till the ache isn't so deep

They tell me my reflection isn't all they see

That I'm more

Made up of nerves, veins, blood, muscle, tissue

Sadness, rage, anger, beauty

Built on the foundations of women who will never know my name

Yet crafted me brick by brick

I don't reside in the pages of their novels

Meant to inspire and relate to

People of ‘my age’

Instead I create my own experience

Document them in the crevices of notebooks and

The spaces of my mind where I can't escape

Don't tell me where I can be placed

I want to be seperate, disjointed

Unswept by the pressure and expectations

From generations plagued by their own humanity

Dirtying the streets and the air

With the mistakes of their past

So I’ll wait for the day I’m grown, heady busy, mouth running

To mould into the figure I’m supposed to

Find a job, a career, build a family

Yet deep down in my heart and underdeveloped brain

Warped by the damage of people’s opinion

I'll forever be in the space between adolescence and independence