A room full of strangers is everything but healing. I remember how seventeen and fear met in a combustion. My skin, still swelling from the burns, somehow feels soft. I don’t know where to hold this numbness because it wasn’t always there, I promise. I promise. I promise that you can drink the last drop. Stay out past midnight. Run through silence just to make your mark. Scream joy because the world won’t take as quickly. You’re so young. You’re so young. You’re so young. And I’m not talking about a number. Fuck numbers. Fuck time. Fuck seventeen. It means nothing. Your spirit is laced with treasure and you’re trying to find gold- but you’ve had it this whole time. Just let the sun set for you, please? Drive fast in shitty cars with boys you never loved. Dump your perfume in their lockers. Leave their hoodies crumbled up in the corner of your room. And now you’re nothing but an open wound for everyone to stare through- leaving them to wonder how you can ever possibly stitch yourself back up. What a precious time to waste but it wasn’t a waste at all. Oh, how I wish I did. Wish I let the shackles fall before I ate the key. Wish I let myself wish a little more. -AMT