There's something about being almost eighteen
I don't know
Maybe it's how the wind blows on my hair
Or the color of my skin
Maybe it's the bounce in my step
Or the way my new jean hugs my figure
Maybe it's the fact that I'm out of high school
Maybe it's how everything feels different
Maybe it's how I got hurt last year by those I trusted the most
Or how I watched her die slowly
Maybe it's the gunshots and bodies I get to see daily
Or maybe it's just my mama's anxiety talking
Maybe it's the fear when I see the man who touched me as a young girl
Maybe it's the anger I feel at the man who handed me my first gun as a boy
Maybe it's my irritation when I hear people say I should have no problems
Maybe it's the fact that I'm still in love with the same person all the adults said wouldn't last
I don't know
Maybe it's the way my hands still shake and the way my eyes are always blood shot
Maybe it's my addiction to my escape
Maybe it's the way they say my grades will matter when I'm older
Maybe it's the way I have it different from these other rich kids
Maybe it's the way I see my rich friend with a new bruise each day
Maybe it's because I know one way or another, we're all fighting different parts of the same war
And we're struggling to survive
Tomorrow's my eighteenth birthday
So many things to decide
The gang wants to celebrate
But do I want a party really? I just want to walk a while
I'm having trouble trying to settle my thoughts
My bills are piling up
What bills? Even I, don't know
I told my mum not to watch me so closely but I guess she'll never understand that I'm older
I'm stronger
That the world she's trying to protect me from, has already cut me open and I've bled out all emotions
I'm still walking
I remember when I hit thirteen
I couldn't wait to be sixteen
And all I could do was dream about eighteen
I didn't know that being a teenager was where life started
Where reality hits you
Where scars are formed
Where personalities are mould
Where friendships are woven
Where everything either begins or ends
Now? I just want to sleep
That's all I want these days to sleep
But I never get enough
It's not insomnia
It's my worries
It's the dead of the night and I'm still walking
No, I came home hours ago
But I've been walking
Walking through space in my head
Telling myself stories I don't believe
Asking myself questions with no answers
It's my birthday
Better turn off my phone
Yes, I'm eighteen
My worries remain the same
My scars run deep
My family won't understand that as I grow older, all I want is some quiet
No, keep the cake
I just need some space
Last year, Jill made a fuss about her eighteenth birthday, some show she had with her boyfriend
I wish I had that fuss or money
I wish I could dress up all pretty and smile while I get money thrown at me
But nope, that's my little sister telling me I need to wash the dishes
I'm not complaining about my life
No, don't get me wrong
But there are a lot of things that are desirable when you hit a certain age
Last year Mike got himself a new car for his birthday
I asked him how he did it
He said "steady grind my gee and you'll hit millions"
What does that even mean?
I got a girl I like and buying her this necklace cost me half my monthly savings
The guys will never understand that I can't throw a party, I can't buy designer shoes
I'm just a poor eighteen years old boy
With like what? Reputation to lose?
Money is not everything
But it certainly is something
When you see eighteen is no different from twenty one
You start to count the 2's and cross the T's
You start to wonder if they only caged you all your life
To release you unprepared into a world full of chaos.


© Blossom Obi