An Older Chicken Nugget
I realized I wasn’t a kid anymore
When I started to long for the nap time I’d been given in kindergarten.
How I squandered those precious hours of quiet
Laying awake, convinced that I was not a child.
I realized I wasn’t a kid anymore
When I revisited the bathrooms in the lower school.
Did the toilets shrink? The sink must’ve gotten smaller.
And the paper towel dispenser, it’s practically on the floor.
I realized I wasn’t a kid anymore
When the poetry in English class became the opposite of literal.
Flowers are never literal flowers - their deep blue hue depicts the lugubrious tone.
What if the poet just likes dark blue?
I realized I wasn’t a kid anymore
When I was told I was a senior in high school.
Wait a second, I can’t be one of those big kids I knew in fifth grade
Who had their entire life completely figured out.
I realized I wasn’t a kid anymore
When I figured out that part of me would always be a kid.
I still love apple juice and chicken nuggets, I need naps,
And as an adult, I will sing in the hallways because I am just an older kid.