To Be Old

I thought he was my age until
The gun was sticking in my side like a needle.
“Just be cool, doll,” his breath licked my face.
His voice was whirring in my ears
And I felt dizzy and full, like I’d swallowed a cloud.
I wondered vaguely if I’d ever see my mother again.
I think I understood then that
You don’t have to live long to be old
Because here we were at seventeen
With one foot in the grave.