call me Miss Hallmark, but i look in the mirror and i still see the eleven-year-old face plagued with the only acne in the sixth grade. a face with no concept of love, humility, gratitude, or any other mature emotion, only a pervading self-important despair most people don't care enough to see. a face which is still almost 5 years from its first kiss. a face which will grow wide-eyed in a year when someone laughs at it for not knowing what a blow job is.

that's still my face.

and in less than three months, that face will be deemed the face of a legal adult, and a high school graduate. someone mature enough to support herself without her parents or any of the people who have stepped in from time to time to fill the parental role when those biologically selected to do so failed to complete their mission.