Adulthood (Poem)

I am not an adult. I refuse to relinquish my crazy dreams. I'll never abandon my impossible fantasies. I simply cannot concede that my delusions are well.........delusional. I will not accept the inevitability of mediocrity. I believe in the possibility of great and wonderful and terrifying things. More importantly, I believe in my own ability to greet those things with a fierce courage and unstoppable strength. I reserve the right to believe that magic exists and so do superheroes, and that there is still a chance that, someday, I might encounter both. I assert that I am entitled to the occasional temper tantrum, even if I do insist on keeping it at bay until I am alone. I can't help but assign emotions to inanimate objects, though only if the objects seem particularly emotional. I still create stories in my head just like I did when I was a little girl and, though I may no longer act them out physically, much of my life is still spent in those imagined places. The beauty and wonder of those places has led me to view our reality through a film of distaste and defiance, and to ask myself  "Why would anyone want to live here?"