Eight year old me cries out for me
Fourteen year old me gives me the best bus routes to purposely get lost so i wouldn’t have to go home.
Seventeen year old me stares blankly at the family wall, wishing she did well raising her siblings.
Twenty Two year old me comforts me, singing the lullabies i begged to hear when I was five.
but now; Twenty year old me is begging that she can hold down the fortress just a little longer.