Sixteen

Sixteen, I turn sixteen
and we celebrate like it is a blessing
not a curse. Just wait –
that is sixteen, waiting –
although my heart cries out for a husband
although my body longs to carry children
I am ready, I am ready
but words like future and career
are carried like they weigh the world.
Sixteen, and I’m empty.
My heart expanding all the time to hold
what should be filling it
I end up with a pile of wishes
and weariness all the time.
Sixteen, that is not so old.
So why this ache, this sorrow?
They mock me when I cry at
songs I’ve never heard before,
things I’ve never seen before.
They forget sixteen.
Sixteen, and I already feel the lure of death.
Wondering at adventures I can hear calling me,
but I’m glued to a desk chair
until they let me go free.
Sixteen, a body with hips and new feelings.
Touching my hair, my chest, eyes fastened to the mirror,
am I good enough? Am I beautiful enough?
Or will I have to keep trying?
Sixteen, and the tears come from nowhere,
I do not understand this surface,
Deep down I have grasped with strong soul-hands
this new woman I suddenly am.
They won’t try to see.
Sixteen, dreaming of love like
listening to a faraway song. Sighing,
remembering daydreams and his
long brown hair and crying, homesick for
a house never built, heartsick for
a man never met.
Sixteen, and I am full to the brim of feeling.
I am baptized in sixteen, then caged –
I cannot move –
because they do not remember
sixteen, beaten like my heart is shameful,
my body is scandalous,
and my soul is unwanted.
Oh sixteen,
why are you me?