Presage

When is the right time?
Time reveals the unknown; with conviction.
Foreshadowing tears of pain and guilt

In lieu of a summer's day, rain provides ample solace
Soothing the soul in a cathartic swirl

Will the right time come?
Restless is the boggled heart, till truth be told
Overwhelming the mind, slurring its purity
Never admitting its concealed debauchery
Gaudily retorting with a smile

Why ask?
Indistinct is the redness of the sky
Terror in all it's dim crimson glory
Hypnotizing, fixating, magnificent

Must I go on and on with the inevitable?
End the uncertainty, enter uneasiness

Realization cometh

No longer will I cringe in fear at the idea of losing my teenhood.

Age is what I need right now. Age is what matters.

All I want is to get out of this hell-hole most people call home.