Cataclysm

High school teens, fragile demi-gods,
Easily broken, ever protean
Bodies splitting at the seams
New selves rising, recreated from fire
Hearts hammering so hard and fast,
Bursting daily into pools of tears
Constant torrents of emotion --
Fueled by the rush of hormones
And the near panic of everyone else --
Carving steep canyons in their young souls

It's like flying with glass wings;
Like roller-blading down an icy hill
Blindfolded and wet
Like being born and dying simultaneously.
All of this without being able
To appreciate it, without
Knowing how awesome and horrifying
And tender and mysterious
It is, not knowing how much you love it,
Til long past when wounds have healed