You tell me I haven’t grown up yet.
But did I not stop my parents from fighting when I was just 12?
Did I not hug myself to sleep when all I needed was a mother’s lullaby?
You tell me I am yet to know the world.
How come I play it safe now? Why can I filter out liars from a bunch of pretentious fit ins? Why do I already know that in order to survive you need to hide yourself in a closet and put on a new skin?
You tell me I am yet to discover things.
What more lies beneath the fact that the world is dying and there’s nothing to change apart from it’s constant policy to redeem one’s mistake with another in order to survive?
You tell me I am still young
But I feel like my 40year old mind is trapped in a 22 year old body, screaming at me to not take risks? For me to avoid getting hurt?
You tell me that I haven’t seen true love
Then why do I know the pain of a heartache? Why can’t I trust people? Why don’t I give my heart to somebody?
You tell me I over romanticize my pain.
But do you know how painful it is to breathe and not live?
You ask me to enjoy my life.
How do I do that when I have a thousand burden over my shoulders to keep me on my knees? You never taught me to stand up, so I am still crawling.
You promised me that I wont be alone.
Where is everyone when I am lost and drenching my pillow at the late hours of the night? Why don’t I have it in me to reach out? Why do I feel like a baggage?
You tell me I haven’t grown up.
You tell me I haven’t seen this glorious world
And I tell you I have outlived my life and I have seen past the green wonders of this world and caught sight of the darkness that resides in it’s core