Grow, grow, grow!
They all said.
When was i ever little?
My memories felt facade.
A way to cope up.
I learned my mother's name by bleeding through it
and
my father's name through screaming it.
Everyone was once someone i tried to hid from.
I tried to run away yet i colapsed and sat on the very ground.
My years flew in denial.
So, next time when i haunt myself for the growth maybe i can repeat this again?
Yet i could not use this as an excuse or a treatment in bed.
This knots up nerves in my brain
How could i go without them?