Their absence makes me feel sad,
I look around at my peers, envious and curious,
Obsessing over when they will show up.
When they do, they never seem to live up to expectations,
Too small, too uneven, but what’s sure is it’s a sign I’m no longer a child.
It adds to my wardrobe in a hushed way,
I don’t know whether to be proud or embarrassed that they’re finally here.
I look at magazines; should I …