Eighteen

Eighteen is a cancer, beyond a simple number

It is waste, waste that piles up below until you fall to your death

Wasted hopes, wasted dreams, filled with lies that build from your feet

Let's moan, lets cry, lets pretend that everything will be fine

I hate the thought of this number coming again

looking me in the eye

i wont shoot it down, i will embrace, embraced with sincerity

I cant do, i can only try

I don't mind the break, or the fear

Days are not long, it will be here soon

I can hear its footsteps, lost in a hallway

It comes unexpected, with a grin

I hate you eighteen, you are no longer a goal

You are horrible, despicable, dead to me

I hope the calender drowns the last living digits you possess

You have been mine, lost without a word

Eighteen is stored, boxed put up in a closet

Looking around for someone to open it, knowing that you will give in

I won't give in anymore, I wont look for you

I will ignore you, i will burn you alive

Live, and die

your time has run out

try to go away, you will never be back

I will skip you, or never reach you again.

Author's Note

Although most people think I am referring to the age of eighteen, I referring to something else.