The Little Signs

I knew it was coming some time close to now

but I didn't have a single clue how

Not even an estimation of time was given

because adulthood isn't something you can immediately step foot in

You ease into it almost like a series of initiations

and no true amount of preparation can be taken

All that can be done is to wait for the signs to start appearing

they're the first thing you notice before you become hard of hearing

It always begins with your own card of plastic

which is then used to buy anything extrinsic

But it's not the things you can order with it

yet the realization that you need to make a budget

And then there's the anxiety and the lump in your throat

from calling to inquire about a doctor's note

But then the next day the feeling is gone

and you're dialing the number with ease as you yawn

It's things like that that happen overnight 

and make you feel different whether wrong or right

It's not the milestones or big purchases that make you an adult 

but the little signs that make you jolt

with an understanding

that you are now

grown

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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