In one week now,
Or slightly less,
I will be thirty-seven.
Although I feel,
The same as when,
I was only eleven.
I’m still that child,
Withdrawn and shy,
And awkward and unsure.
Still wondering,
Am I good enough?
I’m just as insecure.
I thought by now,
I’d be more cool.
More bold, more confident.
But alas, I’m not.
I’m still the same.
But I’m okay with it.