when i got stuck in awkward adolescence, someone told me,
figure out what you're good at--
learn everything you can about it, be the best at it--
and get a job doing it.
(nobody told me i couldn't have a job writing bad poetry
or rapping along with common or making street art or.)
so now i'm stuck in awkward adulthood,
seeking and not finding something tangible to do with myself,
with all of my manifold talents and dreams,
something sun-warmed, dirty, and free.
i demand an opportunity to prove myself, to be as wild and rash
and positive and forceful and loving as i know that i can be,
an opportunity to earn what i'm worth,
the chance to give all that i am to a cause that is worthy.
somewhere buried under all that plenipotentiality
remains an awkward adolescent, learning and creating and listening,
and ready to push adulthood into the full flower of possibility.