It’s a beautiful stage.

So innocent

No need to worry about identity.


What happens

If you never have

An identity?

What now?


I was a baby

I still am

When did I realize

I’m not that mature?


Wanting to die does not make me old

It makes me tired

Wanting independence does not make me old

It makes me stubborn


When was the last time

I was Z?

Fifth grade on the swings,

Little girl doesn’t know

What’s coming next


Next year, hurt by strangers

Hurt by myself

Another year pass,

And i’m all alone.


I didn't have to be

I didn’t know

I don’t know how


Left look; right look

No one knows me

I don’t know me.





That’s who I was

That’s all gone now

Not all

I have me

That’s good


People I love surround me

What matters more

I love me


Loving myself makes me an adult

It doesn’t make naive

Loving others makes me an adult

It doesn’t make me weak


I’m not yet Z


I’m getting there.


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