[mousepoet]: 243.mousey's Poetry.eighteen is wild

Fifteen ripped my sky in two
and taught me the little death
in disappointment.
Beyond it is the withering glance
of sixteen,
that hit like a fist,
blinked,
and was gone.
And seventeen looks
over her shoulder at the rest
and sighs,
because she knows that eighteen
is wild,
and goes in like a lion
and out like a lion,
and has a tendency
to eat men alive.