Lets Just Leave This World Together

The other night.

Was fun... in so many ways.

I was sure that soon enough it would happen.

That I would realize something.

Unimportant Year

17 is such a forgotten year

I always never cared to tell passers by my age

because 17 is so boring

I shed that burden tonight.

And will gleam

in my super sweet 18.

Fumble

Blindly reaching for the next branch, I realize the one word that describes me best. Fumble.

I fumble with my words, trying to find the best fit.

I fumble around my friends, attempting to be there and have them be there.

I fumble

convincing myself to jump into a lake of sub 32 degree water.

I fumble

talking to you about my worry and fear.

I fumble

with relationships, baseballs, pencils, and self righteousness.

I fumble

around the line of wrong and right, of feminine and masculine, of flirtation and promiscuity, of strong willed and forceful, of forward and blatant.

I pretty much fumble everything I have to hold.

But somehow I fumble the fumbling so that in the end

I hold everything.