I put away the dishes
hampering peace of mind
dancing between the counters
handling the quiet

tidying a mess
and unhiding fears
feeling each breath in my throat,
fighting back tears

I picture the most beautiful
and sad, image I've ever had
and wonder if heartache
only gets harder with age

At the arc of my day
Before things go back to different
I shutter in my memories
and put away the dishes

Watching the lightning, listening to thunder
Did I do the wrong or right thing
It’s got to make you wonder
What tomorrow might bring
to tear it all asunder.

Splitting our limbs and bringing the pain
Leaving us torn
We wonder why it came
But the fiercest storms
still bring the rain.

We try to hold on to what we forgot
Not to grow up and throw it all away
But the storm has taught
That life finds a way
And branches heal like it or not.

I miss my fiends and I miss my youth
If I could go back I don’t know what I’d do
Branches bend and on time moves
All things end but the search for truth

Living life by a corner store;
buying into people's ideas.
Till my pockets grew empty,
and I was still searching for more.

Kids riding up and down the street,
not knowing much, just good at
disturbing the peace.
Memories we like to hold,
are probably the ones like our first kiss.
We went through times watching the stress of these adults.
Parents fighting each other,
thinking it's all our fault.

Never grew up with much,
had to make it feel like it was a lot.
Every gain we had, came with it's equal loss.
All the mistakes we made,
soon later came with a cost.

From acting shy around pretty girls,
spinning our words to impress them.
But too busy caught up in their curls.
As teens, promising to give them a world,
we knew we couldn't afford.
Spending our free periods in class kissing girls cause, we were bored.

Skipping a few classes, thinking in life we could skip ahead.
Telling each all the lies we rest in everyday,
always backing up your friend.
Teachers calling us out for not
being serious,
We didn't believe their words,
those words weren't really us.

Sneaking into clubs before eighteen,
sipping substances from brown bottles.
The times we had, we were surely wasting.

First few times we were smoking herbs,
pulling hard puffs, till we were disturbed.
Out of luck at times,
when we didn't find love or comfort.
Regardless of the cost,
we'd spend hours on gaming, all through the summer.

Boys feeling like men when we busy getting hooked on ****.
The start of our addictions, and the hunger of flesh was what showed.

Fitting in with the crowd till you found yourself,
realizing we don't have forever this youth.
But we didn't treasure it's wealth.

We're all adults now, and this adulting life at times *****.
Eventually I'll have to find love,
but falling in love really hurts and cuts.
With the fears of not giving her enough.

But we're adults now,
look how far we've come.
Can't runaway from the responsibility,
else we'll all be on the run.

This is the tale of growing up.

when i was eleven
older men always complimented me
i was apparently so mature for my age
yet so young and docile.
when i grew,
men stopped liking me.
too outspoken,
they'd say.
too difficult,
they'd say.
no fun,
they'd say.
and now often i wonder
why it the beauty standard
reflective of a little girl?
hairless,
soft-spoken,
dependent,
innocent.
yet they are the ones who have made us so
outspoken
independent,
mature-
women, now and then,
were not allowed
to be anything besides a ****** object
we were denied
the simplicity of childhood.
we were blowing bubbles on the sidewalk
when men drove by
catcalling us.
society hates our displays of sexuality
when they were the ones who sexualised us.
funny
isn't it?

A pair of eyes collides
With one identical pair,
The first pair owner lowers
His head to bow as heir.
The second rises slowly,
Triumphant lifts his voice,
Commands, commands this brainless
Descendant of his choice.

But number One refuses
He negatively shrinks
And in the eyes of daddy
He stares and never blinks
A “NO” still echoes somewhere
The word becomes a sword
It riddles Second´s ticker
And One is without lord.

Pale but smiling number Two
Congratulates his son.
Reassuring number One
His loss means that he won.
Then Two drops dead
At least in part
And moves no inch of bone

One, alone, falls into pit.
Pit uncertainty.
One can´t think straight,
Brain so full that empty.
Two wore coat,
Two´s coat heavy.
One still wears it,
Legs are wobbly.

One
Take first own step
Alone

being a child, i remember
loving the tangy taste
of cherry cough drops, thinking
it was pretty good for not being candy.
growing up, i started to realize
that they weren't tangy;
they were medicinal, and that to a
child, they might seem sweet because
they don't know any better.
some people say they miss being a kid
so that they didn't know the things
that they know now. But I would
much rather know what I know
and be capable of making my
own choices then to be kept
in the dark like a child.

How am I supposed to react
When inside my own body
I feel so trapped

I'm expected to be what I present
But that doesn't reflect me
And this person you see, I've began to resent

Her pronouns don't feel like mine
And they haven't for a while
But changing them has helped over time

Sometimes it feels okay
Others I can't take it
Because how I feel changes day to day

The girl you see who wears the skirts
Who wears makeup to be confident
Isn't a girl at all, and feels like dirt

When you call me beautiful
I don't know how to feel
It feels so unusual

My body doesn't feel like mine
It belongs to a woman
If it didn't maybe I'd feel fine

My clothes don't reflect me
Neither does my makeup
This isn't who I want to be

I'm scared I'll never look neutral
Maybe you'll always see a girl
It just feels so brutal

The person you raised
Isn't who I grew into
I'm a new person today

I've never came out
But it's because I'm still so unsure
And if I told you you'd feel doubt

You raised a girl
Not someone doesn't feel right
A child who'd grow to wear dresses and pearls

I was always your princess
Never your prince or neither
But I've never felt secure in a dress

I'll never feel feminine
Not how you perceive it
But how I feel it is relevant

The tiara never fit my head quite right
And the long hair felt wrong
I wish I could change overnight

One day you'll know
I'll explain it all to you
But until then, I'll continue to grow