Here’s to the freshman team basketball players
And the small towns everyone dreams of getting out of

To the ones with the faces that are chains that bind them to
library corners and
bathroom stalls and
t-shirts and
never telling anyone what their favorite color is

To the rocking chair sitters
And the ones who won’t make nice and share the crayons

To the street corner foot tappers
And the front pew stomp and clappers

To the girls who never want to shave again

To us who want to leave behind anything other than this
Pretending that we are
We are
mountains
turned molehills
turned Coffeeshop loafers
turned wannabe Anythings
In apartments where the milk is always bad and the lightbulbs won’t smile for the pictures

And we only asked to change the world