Student Publishing Program ::

Julia A. Friedman

16

The only age
When a certain amount of schizophrenia is normal.
And self-narration of your every
Movement and reflection and embarrassment
Is written in a book
That will, twenty years from now,
Be ridden in dust,
Wheezing in the back of your armoire.
A yearbook?

The only age
That straddles adulthood and childhood
Like the boy,
That really shouldn’t be at your house
Without your parents home.

The only age
When dreams are an empire
And failure a Hun.
When practicality is the road less taken
And a test has hands
To embrace or suffocate.

The only age
When a noose can be made of colloquial phrases.
Like, like, like
Oh my god!
Oh my god!
I CAN’T FAIL SCIENCE.
Someone tell me quick
Are freckles recessive?

The only age
When decisions are sort of yours,
Kind of?
Conveniently,
We are indecisive.
Some of the time.

The only age
When eating six pints of Ben & Jerry’s
Feels so damn good afterwards.
When you can watch Will Ferrell movies,
Quote them,
And still have friends.

The only age
When two a.m. walks
Are the best walks to take.
When swearing becomes an art form,
Like lying.
The adrenaline of escaping boredom
And knowing you can’t outrun it,
At least until Thursday
Because that’s when track starts.

Three hundred and sixty-five days
To make sixteen
The Age.
The Only.

[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2011 EDITION]