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

This poem is about: 
Me

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