The Aftertaste of Adulthood

i’ve snuck nibbles of forbidden ambrosia
since third grade
i don’t know when i took my first bite

 I’m a Venetian at a masquerade ball—
Constantly switching masks:
Nerd, sister, comedian, daughter, friend
Are they lies, or facets of the truth?

My dual citizenship for fairyland and reality
Is about to expire.
I don’t know how much longer I
Can straddle the border between

the past:
looking back over my shoulder at what was
(we never play pretend anymore— have you noticed?)
memories melt on my fingers like snowflakes
i can’t lose them all

&

The future: a skyscraper or a house of cards?
I’m scared to walk forward, but I can’t control my feet
So I sketch my plans, hope my foundation will be strong enough,
And my walls won’t come crashing down

My first bite of adulthood was juicy,
Ripe with opportunity
The aftertaste, bittersweet—
I didn’t expect how complex it would be