The Moment

Mon, 04/01/2019 - 08:44 -- VrochiK

The moment I knew I went from child to womanWas when man entered my mind and set about eternal destructionI found peace only when the fire was controlled by meBut it wasn’t me, it wasn’t meThe real moment I knew I went from child to womanWas when I found the loophole I’d spent years looking forI finally found it but I had to break some rulesI knew I was an adult when I felt desperationI knew no child would understand the complexity of that feelingPeople think it’s simple until they actually feel itFew even truly know what it is to be desperateIt’s when you’d compromise your own standards, your own morals to escape from itI knew I was an adult when my vision grew cloudedI only saw what I needed and spent every moment looking for itWith desperation comes determination because we only have one optionCalled to the front, our ancient sense of do or dieI knew I wasn’t a child when that entered my mind.I let nothing distract me, so many nights were spent sleeplessEach day spent walking in a dream-like nightmareSo vivid and terrifying but oh so far awayI had to do, I had to fightOr I had to fly, I had to dieMy options were very limited.  But then again we can never name the moment when we went from child to adultI’m still a child full of hopeBut I have been an adult, I have been desperateBut there is still a secret child inside us looking for the lightI was never the most optimistic little girlI would look around and think I would burn the world(if i didn’t someone else would)Even as a kid I knew I had to get there firstI didn’t ever want to be the last one on earthI knew from a very young age I didn’t want to be the one watching the world dieI knew from a very old age I was never that naiveBut things still took my attention from me, I think that’s how I knew I was still a kid thenUs adults, we function on a single mindsetWe strive for what we want and accept nothing lessIt takes a real adult to be content with anything thrown at themSo even though I have changed I’m still that same kidI know different things but in the end they’re all worthlessWhat I understood then but not quite so much now is:Should the kid inside survive orShould we suppress it? 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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