Growing Pains

Makeup covering my face

Adult clothes presented as gifts in shiny black trash bags

Smelling of smoke and sickly sweat

Watching my mother oh so carefully

Get ready for the night, peering at herself in the mirror

Wearing her preteen’s clothes, tight against her body

She smiles and asks “do I look sexy?”

Sharing in her secrets

A unwilling but silent observer

Catcking a glimpse of the strange adult world

My mother lived in

Where a girl of eleven is seen to be perfect for bearing children

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741