Title 35

I'm not a child anymore. My body has helped me live through this.

But there's still a part of me stuck in that room.

Late nights, waiting for mama to come home.

Pure white and grey room, picking at the lint of my uncle's couch.

All I have is me to entertain.

I still remember the car rides. State, to state, state, state.

All I see are hotels. What memories did I make besides the worst ones?

I was always pretending just for you.

I saw it in him. He is growing and becoming 16. I'm stuck at 8.

When will this be over for me?

I don't want to die like this.

I'm a little girl, in this horrible red dress, and I want this party to end.

Forgive me for my addictions, I still remember what happened to me.

Reviews

[Davidgeo]

Wait until you turn 25. That is when the frontal lobe in humans finishes developing. After that, you will see. The plastic slowly turns into stone. You will see what I mean. Be as happy as you can before then. Set yourself up to be a joyful old person. Angry old people suck.