Sudden Adulthood… Hmmm
They said, “Go to school.” “Work hard.” “Graduate.”
They said, “This is the right way to be a good child.”
So we followed them… heads bowed, feet steady,
Collecting grades, like stepping stones,
Believing that the road would lead somewhere.

Then one day, the money stopped.
The same hands that placed coins in our palms, now rested on the laps of the owners of their bodies;
Expectant.

“You are grown now.”
“You must stand on your own.”
“You must help the family.”

But how can you stand
when the ground beneath you is shifting?
How can you feed others
when your own stomach sings songs of hunger?

The rent is due,
The fridge is empty,
But the emails remain unread.
Job applications are thrown into the void,
But answers never come.
And when they do,
they sound like laughter and mockery:
We regret to inform you…

And so, some do what they must.
Some learn to sweeten their voices, for men with full wallets,
Some learn to become soft, available, obedient in unspeakable realms,
in exchange for rent paid,
for meals that they can taste, without counting coins.

Some sit in dark, secret backrooms,
pressing strange pills, which are not approved by the FDA, into small plastic bags,
handing them to hands that do not ask questions.

Some walk into churches,
not to pray, but to perform.
Because miracles sell, and hunger does not.

And when the elders see us,
They shake their heads,
And murmur about lost values,
About how our generation lacks patience,
About how we like quick money,
About morality gone bad.

But they never ask “why?”.
They never ask how many nights we have gone to bed, with our bellies screaming.
They never ask how it feels, to know that the world was never designed for us to win.

We are trying!
But trying does not pay the rent.
Trying does not silence the landlord’s knock.
Trying does not fill the fridge.

And so we learn,
Too soon, and too harshly,
That childhood was an illusion,
That love came with conditions,
That being an adult
Is just another way of saying,
“You are on your own!”

© APIORKOR 2025 [From The Gospel According To Adulting, 2025]