I'm an insecure little girl,
haven't you discovered
that yet?

Every time the subject
at hand is discussed,
my stomach turns onto
itself, as if it dislikes
talking about it as much
as my heart and mind.

My silence means
I'm breaking inside,
little by little until
one day, I'm nothing
but pieces waiting
to be put back together.

If ever you care to
pick up my fragments,
burn that bridge first. Until
then, I'll be here
wanting to grow up.