an in-between number. too old, yet too young. too wise, yet still too naive. is expected from, yet is not expected to be heard from. the last year of a child, even though most have already grown too much and too fast before this year had greeted them. tragedy has hit, and so has happiness. love has been lost, and for most, never even found. so much has been done, or nothing at all.
the prospect of nineteen makes me sleepy, and all i want to do is lay down and bathe in the sun, with its warmth on the backs of my eyelids. recall my childhood, and dream of my future. i wonder what will happen. all i am sure of at this very moment is that i will be waiting with my arms open and a soft hello on my lips.
nineteen, please be good to me.
well, stay a while.
(photo taken by me)
s o i m i l k l o u n g e 