Tue, 04/05/2022 - 12:47 -- layla_

you are fourteen.

it is the summer before high school, and you are heaving the weirdest experience

the world is ending, you say, not really giving a damn

because why should you care about the plague or the presidency

when you don't even feel like leaving your room most days?

you are fourteen.

there are empty water bottles on the floor

you've started listening to indie music to make up for your blank page personality

to fill that gaping hole where your soul has run off without the rest of your body

you cry all the time, and when the tears dry, you just sit in the dying numbness and radio silence

an idea has sparked, just a tiny flame that will turn to a wildfire

how about a diet?

you are fourteen.

the notes app is your best friend and you sob when you leave skype calls

your house is filled with family but the room is cold and lonely

it is march, it is april, it is may

the days mean nothing, you are nothing

and the diet is nothing serious, just a fun little thing to play around with

a distraction, because nothing is real and the whole world is ending

why not you too?

you are fourteen

your school has shut down, and all that hard work has turned to ash right before your tired eyes

once you get to high school, you imagine you will still be the same inexperienced middle schooler you once were

not yet recovered from the trauma of your generation

you're a kid, a kid who hardly remembers her name most days

and you give the bottle of ibuprofen a second glance

the diet is no longer nothing

your body is losing its fight from the inside out

isn't fourteen a little young?

but you know what they say

hindsight is 2020

you couldn't have known better

you were only fourteen.


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