i’ll be nineteen soon.
hard to imagine,
growing older, when you gain years
much quicker than you gain wisdom.
i don’t want to be more than a child.
i don’t want time to run out.
i wish i could stop time,
and be young for as long as i like.
but then the magic,
of running through a rainstorm,
laughing and singing,
of first kisses in the sunshine,
in the trees
of learning who i am-
would go away.
i don’t want to grow up anymore.