We were outside when I admitted it. 
One hot summer day in early July. 
My hand shook,
Mouth dry, stomach queasy. 
Sixteen had never been so complicated.
That blur of an aching day, 
Gone away as quickly as the night.
So much can happen, yet, 
So little can be remembered. 
Disorientation and chaos
Tucked away into darkness.
Aware that a new day has arrived,
And yesterday can be forgotten. 
The burden of being young, 
Taken off my shoulders,
And shared with the few that could understand.