Ah, adolescence.

A remarkably awkward time.

“Oh, she’s hot!” “He freakin’ smells!” “Has that always been there?”

Many thoughts—

Some vocalized, some not—

Rush through youngsters’ heads.

But for a young me,

Thoughts were hopelessly

Confounding.

A recluse was I;

Though, I had a secret release:

Paper.

Upon pages, my mind’s stomach vomited

Beautiful bile.

Over time, the words could be crafted

Into respectable works.

Ah, adolescence.

In you, I found written expression.

And I thank you.