I Grew Up
I grew up in a day
And no one noticed.
Maybe that’s because smiling
For me
Is a multi-purpose reaction.
I’m scared?
Smile
I’m sad?
Smile.
I’m hurt?
Smile anyway and keep it moving.
Maybe they didn’t notice
Because I scrubbed the floors too well.
Bleach down the sins
Bleach away unwanted touches
Let the ammonia cover the stench
Of betrayal
Take the color from the innocence
Rapidly leaving my body .
Let the bleach cover me
And cleanse my own disgust
Mask my pain
I mean
That’s what adults do
Right?
Regardless of the reason
I can’t help wonder
How my mother didn’t notice.
“It’s me and you” she’d say
So why didn’t she see the years
That came to form in my eyes?
Why didn’t anyone hear the wrinkles
In my voice.
Single mother
Going to school
Yeah I remember
Things used to get a little crazy
But
How didn’t you see me
Trying to stitch the skeleton back into my skin?
On my 10th birthday
I turned 45.
Wise for my age?
No
I’m older than I look.
Can describe to you in detail
The sounds of screams scratching the quiet.
The way the earth bends.
How the world spins slower
When you have the weight of someone else riding your back.
I grew up in a day.
And no one noticed.
Held my inner child in my hands
And watched her run
Wordlessly
From my finger tips.
Scrubbed the stains of her breath
From my lap
And then went home.
Why didn’t you question the limp in my step
Or the speed of which
I changed my clothes?
How could you miss
How my heartbeat hit the floor
Like gun shells skipping across the pavement?
How didn’t you hear
Me walk into the room like shattering glass?
You know
People get angry
When there’s talks of suicide.
But I get it.
It’s not selfish
But the greatest kindness you can give yourself.
I’d be a liar
To say I haven’t thought about it.
No one seems to understand
How heavy my thoughts get
Sometimes the pressure
Of growing up too fast
Gets to be a little too much for me to handle on my own.
"Turn up"
It’s not substance abuse
Really
Its just
Sometimes the drugs and alcohol are the only things
That seem to dim the voices in my head
That numb the claw marks on my inner thighs
That silence
The whispers of
“You asked for this”
Growing old is a scary thing.
My skin might not be wrinkled
But my mind is prehistoric.
And I only wonder how long
I can coexist in two time frames
Before imploding.
I grew up in a day
And no one noticed.
I am in a constant battle
Between killing myself
And killing the people who stole what I value most.
Those seem to be the only two choices.
Everything else
Is just killing time