Teenager Pandemic

Irritation bubbles and boils and brews, 
bakes into the stomach lining, 
infects the red flesh with greenish hues

it works its way up and up, 
malady clambering, climbing 
toward the beating hub

invisible and intangible, 
its poisoned roots refining 
until I'm all fragmental

held between innocence and ruin
graduation and initiation
something bound to do me in

Irritation boils; demanding
Infection toils; misunderstanding

a world made for the Working
not for the old, not for the young
the in-between sickening to all

Oh what gaul I have to be off kilter
to make myself sicker
on a balance beam that tilts

with every new expectation,
every new examination,
every little extermination

of my youth

I am too young to be an adult
too old to be a child

too "not old enough to feel this bad
just you wait and see"

too "that's childish, you're grown now
just you wait and see"

a hellish middle ground
of stress-induced sick
and the normal schtick 

of thrown away complaint

"pick up your pieces
the fragments of you

become a person anew
so we won't be disgusted by you

get better, not sicker
though help is a luxury"

This is no trick,
this is no game,

this is no childish fantasy

I am no adult, I am no child
and this world was not made
for me.