Senior Year


The time where I wish I were five again, teetering on my toes at the entrance of my old elementary school. 

The time where time itself somehow speeds up like it never has before, a simple blink of an eye amassing to the passing of weeks.

The time where for every laugh, every smile, every friend, a section of the small time of school I have gets shaved off in a pile of the past.

So many people begin to ask about universities and colleges to the point where “I’m still deciding” becomes an automated response on my tongue. 

Because I am a senior, another student who pretends as if the future isn’t sitting in the palm of their hands. 


It’s a fearful thing, becoming the age I used to think were adults

When with every year I see the world for what it really is and not in the view of an overly-saturated stained glass window.

How I wish I would have listened to my parents advice about not growing up too fast.

Because now I look in the mirror and see who my five year old self was so eager to become.

Except she would’ve never imagined that her senior year would be filled with so many teachers who drive her to be the best version of herself.

So many friends who she wishes would never change the place that they reside in her life.

So many experiences she can now look back and laugh at.

Because if the last school year has taught her anything, it’s that change is terrifying.

And the high school version of herself 

Where everyone knows everything about everyone will come to a close.

The last time she can say I’ll see you tomorrow is upon her. 

Upon us all.

And to say I’m not going to miss it is a lie 

Because senior year is the end of a livelihood I’ve known for so long 

But I think I often forget that life isn’t over once I step out of the comfort of a classroom


It’s just kickstarted me on the rewarding journey of life.