I am
in that phase of life that adults recall nostalgically
the growing pains of their
adolescence
the crushes and dating,
the friendships and fighting,
and the self-discovery and angst that are
all foreign to me
emotions and experiences I can only understand through
how other people describe them

I am
still lingering in middle school memories but also
jokingly called a grandmother
trapped in a fifteen-year-old’s body,
an old soul who wishes she could
convincingly play the role of a teenager,
who observes high school drama with envy,
who craves that “youth” responsible for their nostalgia

I am
trying to be more present
and to enjoy this phase they speak of so fondly
but am not fully convinced of its pleasure
and cautious of vulnerability