Dolls, dress-up, hop scotch, and hand games.
Those things I didn’t have time for at that age.
Growing up was the only choice I had.
I couldn’t leave her to suffer, so I was her only comrade.
An average ten year old wouldn’t understand, but somehow I did.
I felt as if I had given up all up rights to being a kid.
My back became stronger than Nigerian hair.
God himself was my only fear.
Experiencing so much, in so little time.
The bandage for my internal wounds was my smile.
The glitz and glamour hid all my pain
Sometimes I questioned whether or not I was sane.
Turning into a different person, someone who I never thought I’d become.
But my shadow followed me everywhere, where could I run?
The nightmares she gave me, the memories she always flashed.
All I ask is for you to stop taunting me, my dear Past.
But to please her, every day I must where…my mask.