i can own bumblebee tights brazenly, 

flaunt quirky ambitions that are honestly so exceedingly ordinary,

wear my asymmetric pigtails peculiarly crooked,

eat from a stacked tupperware lunch, 

rave over the newest eccentric album, 

and radiate limitless optimism. 

but it all ends with the fiery questionnaires in an endless game of jeopardy.

lies that can either choke and wrench your throat, 

or swaddle you in a cotton cloak of words. 

a flight of languages that enter lightly, leave heavily

as we see the burden of dreams on paper. 

an age of becoming - a prelude to adulthood.