(Poetry) This 18-year-old poetess couldn't help but owe 17-year-olds some explanation. There is no one on the face of earth who can claim to have never made mistakes. While teenage gives us a wide playground to make them, adulthood is a whole new thing. To someone just crossing the threshold of 18, the greatest red flag about adulthood is it's almost absent space for mistakes. Does adulthood really demand perfection? Is it really time to cash in your 'one last mistake'?

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