Here I stand trying to figure you out

When you’re fifteen and suddenly you sink in this deep dark hole they’d tell you that you need some therapeutic drug to help you ease the pain. You think you would need some sharp object to remove the pain but what you actually need is just a simple hug. When you were five and when you cried they’d just hold you tight. What happened?

I wrote this when I was 15:


Young and I admit I am naive…fifteen and now growing older.

I miss those days when I was five and younger

Boys were like germs to me and vice versa

Then came the double digits…I was ten

I started to grow curious yet stay innocent

Playing in the corner with my dolls, silent

Then came thirteen, they say I’m a teenager

I count the minutes that soon turns to days

My thoughts have changed more than my looks

My innocence shattered when these books

Finally taught me something useful

But that statement is just sarcastic

Unlike when I was nine, I’d be there and listen

But instead I’m here questioning my education

Then Came High School, they say you’re an adult

Crushes turns to broken hearts

The boy you only met has now became your only thought

The senior who everyone else admires caught your eye

Lessons ignored, numbers lowering, the heart yearning

The world seemed wider and bolder

Staring at the window hoping class would finally be over

Those days where I awake 6 a.m to watch cartoons

Are now the days I dread to get up from my bed

I wish I could take all those days back

Before the lack of sleep and books weighing on my shoulders

Before these pills came in my hands

I wish I was five again and only cry when my parents are mad

Cry only when my knees are scratched

Instead here I am crying for a simple boy

Whatever happened to just wanting dolls and toys?

Fifteen now…but this coming November

I am sixteen and college is drawing closer

Excited to escape and doubtful of the future

Because I am young and a dreamer

Why can’t I go back to being five?

When the world was scary?

When boys brought me no harm?

Instead of wanting to escape all of the time

I wish I was five and broken hearts did not exist

I wish I was five again…

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