Thu, 12/15/2016 - 10:43 -- gesh

I am a girl of six

Playing with bones and stones and sticks

Wondering if words will ever stick

Not knowing that in a decade, I’ll be lonely and sick


I am a girl of ten

Only twirling with the idea of paper and pen

New start, but I could remember it again and again

That new fear comes back to me now and then


I am a girl of thirteen

Graphic tees, Band-Aids, and jeans

Got bruised knuckles for wanting to change the scene

So I started filling my skull with nonsense and caffeine


I am a girl of fifteen

My eyes faded of their favorite green

My hair brittle, courage little, and hands rarely clean

But instead of gasoline, I reeked of internecine


I am a girl of sixteen

Filling my head with gears and wires to become a machine

Whimpers and aches filling the spaces in between

Drenching myself in black so as to not be seen


I am a girl of seventeen

Can’t even bring myself to whisper my sins behind a screen

“You’re funny, but now you’re just bitter, cold, and mean.”

Forlorn for mahogany and red velvet, but I do not want to be queen


I am a girl of seventeen years

My heart full of seventeen dreams and fears

My cheeks slick with seventeen years of sweat and tears

Ill from the seventeen years of lies and broken ties and leers


I am a girl of just seventeen, seventeen looping years

Stronger, weaker, happier, and sadder than I appear


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