An Ode to Twenty-Five

If I could go back to any age,

it wouldn't be any time during high school;

what a fucking awkward stage.

I also would not be a young girl.

I just agonized about everything

to the point where I would almost hurl.

Forever twenty-one is getting closer

But I wasn't quite taken seriously.

In fact, I was likely an obnoxious poser.

I wasn't overly impressed with thirty.
I spend the majority of it being unsatisfied,
bloated, chafed and dirty.

Of course, it's been down hill from there.
Getting jigglier by the minute
And Cheers! to watching me not care.

I cannot see myself choosing any older age.
The damage has already been done
And I've securely bottled up my rage.

So let me celebrate when all the stars aligned;
when I had barely a care
and my metabolism was kind.

Twenty-five's the year to watch.
I was finished with school
And my skin? Nay a blotch.

I could hold my booze
And, oh, what's that?
I don't give a shit. I'm taking a snooze.

Did I mention that at twenty-five
car insurance went down a lot?
Oh yes, and so did my boyfriend.

I know that stanza didn't rhyme,
but holy fuck, it was pretty funny.
Yes, twenty-five was truly my prime.

I travelled a lot and took birth control pills.
I didn't have a high interest mortgage,
Or stacks of overdue bills.

I had few responsibilities whatsoever.
And if I had the option
I'd likely be twenty-five forever.