The Oldest Twenty Year Old in the World: A Collection of Poetry

By Amber Zoe Steigelfest and Mary Blake Graves

Ever wonder what it is like to borrow space in a teenage girl's head? Well, welcome to my universe. I created this work in times in my life where I needed a safe space to express myself. The title is purposefully angsty and very reflective of the end-of-the-world stakes that come with falling in love for the first tim

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amber Steigelfest
• Release date: Aug 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781735481418

Amber Zoe Steigelfest

Amber Steigelfest is currently attending Chapman University to get her BFA in Screen Acting. She believes that stories are best shared and finds purpose in inciting laughter in those around her. Amber was born in Nashville, Tennessee where she attended the Harpeth Hall School, performed in many theatre productions, and got her second degree black belt in mixed martial arts.

Book preview

The Oldest Twenty Year Old in the World

The Oldest Twenty Year Old in the World

The Oldest Twenty Year Old in the World

A Collection of Poetry

Amber Zoe Steigelfest

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Amber Steigelfest Publishing

For my Mom,

for reading all my writing

since forever...

Part One

Love is fluids:

Tears & cum.

Lovers in a cafe holding hands forever:

Lovers in a cafe holding hands forever:

Arguing over which muffin to split—

banana or pistachio, then

pretending to fight over who pays

while knowing whose turn it is—

but sometimes she’ll treat again anyway—

so you move on to tasting each other’s lattes

even when you know the taste of both

and chose to order yours instead of theirs,

because lavender is for shampoo

not coffee.

Then you sit, and you probably ignore

each other because you’ve

spent all day together, and this is

your time to be alone together,

so you take turns peeking

and smiling and snapping a pic that

you know they’d hate for anyone

else to see, but when they pose—

oh God— it’s so much worse.

Sometimes you’ll look up at the same time

and be embarrassed even though

your feelings have been given permission,

and you’re running on the same time clock

as your hearts beat for the same thing,

and you remember last night

you weren’t in a coffee shop,

but you were naked

and he was inside you

or maybe you tried something new.

His skin is soft like a blanket

and his breath is intoxicating like fire

that you’ll eventually pass out from just so

you can dream with him

instead of about him.

You think about that and

all the sudden it’s not the

latte making your cheeks red,

and you feel his finger graze yours

or his leg brush your stubble

since you haven’t had any time

alone to shave, but he’s even more

attracted to you the imperfect way,

So you want to leave,

but then he makes a comment

that you can’t help but intercept

with your own anecdote that probably

could’ve been left unsaid,

but he leans forward as though

your nasally umms and likes

were the best score on Broadway.

And all the sudden it's not a cafe,

but it's your table, your love,

and your day to waste.

ever green

yesterday

i looked

into your

eyes, and

wondered if

they’ve greened

to, so readily,

reflect mine.

i  shed much brown,

and you,

you shed much blue

only to continue to—

we have chosen the

green.

green for hope,

certainty,

strength,

laughter,

and trust.

green for beauty,

and prosperity,

green for giving.

green for permanence,

and green for mild and

well-timed jealousy.

but mostly green

for not taking

life too seriously,

and, in turn,

enjoying every bit of it.

if i ever lose

a little bit

of green,

and resort to

hazel fear,

hazel hurt, or

hazel insecurity,

i just have to look into

your green

and absorb the possibility:

the only thing better

than yesterday

will be our next

tomorrow.

Goodnight, My Lover

"I’m