Give me 18.

There may be a few blatant cliches in my poem below. In fact, it reminds me of a Taylor Swift song. However, I have always felt a sort of desperate nostalgia associated with my freshman year of college. Regardless of how many great moments I've had since then, I feel that it will always carry a strange magic.

Give me 18, give me

recklessness and ignorance.

Late nights, bike rides, 

the last summer - 

or the first -

of freedom.

Relationships starting, or

ending

too late. 

Self-assured and unhindered.

New friends, jumping

in fountains and

climbing on roofs.

Breathing deeply, too greedy,

not realizing it'd be gone too soon.

First we live for 21 then

for marriage

and conception.

Why? We push

towards adulthood

then towards middle age.

Full time, no time.

As if the air where

we dwell

is too thin. 

What do we give up to

lead our quiet lives whispering

Entrapment?

Give me 18

Too many friends to hold onto

for long, too many

days awake and

Swimming with bird song, with

A Universe hum.

I was alotted my time

but it's gone.