Oh, to be seventeen again, 
waist deep in naivety and lessons to be taught up the road ahead. 

At that age, there was still so much I had to learn, 
Not sure what tortured me more, painstaking algebraic equations or innocent crushes never returned.

Always happy but never satisfied, with a constant craving for
something more.

Sometimes I wish I could go back,
so that this time around, I could slow down and savor every minute I had.

I’d hold on a little longer to all the ebbs and flows that come with getting older.
This life doesn’t get any easier—wish somebody would’ve told her. 

But how was I supposed to know, 
that’s just the way life goes?

If I knew then, what I know now,
I’d have realized sooner, there was nothing to worry so much about. 

I could, without hesitation, let go of the things that no longer serve me,
nor contribute to my peace.

I’d free myself from the constraints
of these growing pains,

stop trying to make 
life pick up the pace.

I still may not have everything exactly figured out, but without seventeen, 
I would’ve never been able to continue down this path, and grow into the woman I am now at twenty-three going on thirty.