I never received my concocted potion

The one I’d ordered, for I’m an adult

May it stave off the foggy notion I’ve forgotten who I was growing to be

I’d ordered it to compliment my life

I mean -balance my meal

That’s what adults say, don’t they?

It’s okay, the delay, but bring it, damn it!

Said with a smile that hopefully hides

My slight disgust with myself for wanting, no -needing- the potion at all

Bring it

Before I am faced with the oh-so uncomfortable

To leave here bright-eyed and examining

My un-slurred self-talk

My speech