little old me

 

Dearest Little Girl,

I used words to tear away a diabolical heaviness in my chest that kept growing in monstrous pain. I hid this tall girl, and still it couldn't stop mourning. I've shoved all the sadness in, to be small, a childlike toughness that dreamed too much. If unlearning the things I've learned, unloving what I once loved, and despising this corrupted world would give you back my life so you could have yours, I'd kneel before you to give it up. I'd sleep for years, but life wouldn't let me. You were like a locked closet that wouldn't open to anybody; I wanted you back. You felt safe—alone, but safe. I dressed nicely, and I starve myself to be airy—because maybe then their spine won't throb from carrying my despair. I am light; can't you see? Take any form, and I will still embrace you.

I put so much hatred into growing up; now I am still a kid who wouldn't let anyone in.