adultescence.

in less than a month
I will be 18
and in soft contrary
to my previous belief,
it is no revolution.
adolescence will shed
like one sheds
things unshedable.
and my adolescence
has been
just regular days.
I havent walked on dead leafs
I havent worn a red raincoat
I havent been depressed
when i realized
the world dosent beautifully host,
dosent build a shell
an embryo of a shelter and food supply
a seedshell
for your seedlike  dreams
hell I didnt even cry
in a monthI will be 18
and I have never been in love
I have never sat
tilting forth like I
couldn't possibly compose my self
talking and listing and flapping my arms
in the air
with a boy just as angry
just as filthy
just as cast away
  away
    away
and our coffe laced lips would
stare at each other.
but we would leave the firey room
before beasts form
and conjugate pestilence.
in a month I will be 18 and I havent learned anything
I have seen a few paintings
been to a few continents
read a few books
but i am not glorious
I havent been glorious
and I say goodbye to adolescence
tinted with school uniformes
the color of steaming purge
and I say good bye to Narnia books
and goodbye to freshly formed
naive
malfunctioning thoughts
of politically saving the world
I am turning 18
and I am not glorious.