Shy girl, heart on her sleeve, with a necessity for independence and to be outspoken. Typical.
Jock boy, arrogant attitude, with a necessity to get in touch with his feelings. Typical.
Me, miss independent and outspoken, with a necessity to get in touch with my feelings. Not
so typical .
Born a queen with supreme dreams,
Tendency to always say what's on my mind.
Watching my parents fight from a young age,
I realized I only have myself by my side.
“It's not your fault sweetie mommy loves you.”
“It's okay it's just a small fight me and mommy will figure it out.”
He says as he comes home late every night to tell me everything is going to be okay.
It was better when they yelled, at least there was communication. But after a while it was all
silent, no breaking, no yelling, just me and my blanket to fend off the cold, cold night, but
sometimes I could hear her sobs.
Left to fight my own battles as everyone seemed too busy to care, took my time building up a
wall that everyone seemed too busy to tear.
A young girl was deprived of her childhood, of the love she should've received. She should've
been taken out to carnivals, and fairs and just like everyone, introduced to a world full of
She didn't experience Disney, but she did experience the pain, when Mufassa dies and
Simba's shown, that's exactly how she felt her whole childhood..
Instead she woke up to a smoke every morning, a smoke that began to consume her. Slowly
but surely, it took over her whole body, and she became more mature than her age asked for.
Dressing herself, feeding herself, bathing herself, no one to help.
She knew no one cared when they asked how she was, so brick by brick that wall went up.
She was a youth that tasted freedom, as solid as a rock.
“Where did we go wrong?”
Isolated little girl, lived in my own bubble, always knew right from wrong. I made mistakes,
but only to see if anyone cared enough, now they just ask,
No where. It's all my fault.
My fault for building up a wall so strong that there is no access to the other side.
My fault for having feelings so strong as a child, that when no one reciprocated, I lost all
sense of emotion to show care.
My fault for having to do everything for myself, by myself, that I hit the point where feelings
are just laughter.
I've grown too cold to love, to temper, to sadden, to hate, but I have not grown dark enough to
laugh or smile, and maybe one day,
One day, someone will come along, and get ropes long enough to put over that wall.
But in this very moment, this girl behind the curtain, she has no cues to come out.