At 18

For the version of us who still believed in magic, who thought life was something we could shape with just a little courage and a lot of hope.

The golden age, when life’s supposed to peak,

A young girl, wide-eyed — I wish I wasn’t so meek.

A time to study, to chase a future fast coming,

No time for what my roommates called loving.

Dreams of love brushed the edge of my mind,

But it was easier to leave those hopes behind.

Sun tans, red roses, soft lips unkissed —

So much of youth quietly missed.

His white shirt, brown eyes, stayed in my mind,

A simple happiness I didn’t dare unwind.

But behind all the books and the dreams I wrote,

There’s a heart beating quietly under my coat.

At 18, life cracked open wide,

Puzzle pieces scattered, nowhere to hide.

Laughing nights, promises we swore,

A season of firsts, we were reaching for more.

There was a boy who could make me laugh,

Softened the edges I’d learned to craft.

Life taught me not to let people in easily —

’Cause when they left, I picked up the pieces of me.

Who am I, beyond what I do?

A daughter, a dreamer, a stubborn heart too.

Still searching for where to even start,

Trying to build something real from all these parts.

And deep down, I knew, even lost at sea,

One day I’d build a life meant for me.

At 18, life cracked open wide,

Puzzle pieces scattered, nowhere to hide.

Laughing nights, promises we swore,

A season of firsts, we were reaching for more.

Waiting for joy, for jobs, for love,

Holding onto wishes like stars above.

Sunrise kisses, midnight fears,

All the magic and all the tears.

At 18, life cracked open wide,

We built who we were, piece by piece inside.

Late-night drives, road trips, talks till four,

A season of firsts — and we’re still reaching for more.

At 18,

We were just becoming.