I turn yet another year older
Another year my grew fonder
Yet another year of expansion
Yet another song to call my anthem

Do you remember begging our parents to let us be adults?
When our favorite thing to do was dress up and play make believe.
Drinking meant chocolate milk and artificial fruity drinks.
Getting wasted meant falling off your bike.
When the only pain we knew was stubbing a toe…
Or scraping our knees from the fall.
Getting high wasn’t a term where we blew smoke out of our mouths,
it was seeing who could jump or swing the highest.
When “taking one for the team” meant helping your teammates,
not making a girls night a little bit better.
When kissing was just kissing and you got cooties,
Not STDs and aids from going too far.
And the protection we wore,
was helmets on our heads to prevent concussions…
not a newborn.
When wearing makeup was fun,
and a way to express yourself…
Or wearing your favorite skirt made you feel cute,
not like a ****.
When we didn’t know what drugs were,
just knew that the creamy pink liquid made us feel better.
When boyfriends and girlfriends were described as,
“My friend thats a boy….”
“Or my girl……….. Friend.”
When sleepovers were strictly sleepovers,
not an excuse to get in bed with your best friend…
Who you recently discovered feelings for.
The only wars we knew were card games
And our worst enemies were our siblings.
Dad’s shoulders were our thrones and mum was our hero.
How about that time when we all wanted so badly to grow up?

i'm getting ahead of myself and i feel nostalgic about everything already. i swear i was just thirteen yesterday. then i fell in love and i broke my own heart and fell in love again, got caught in the end. all of it just yesterday. some of it just feels like a dream.

and i woke up like this, almost eighteen. with a belly full of worries, a heart tripping on hope, and ribcage heaving with sighs. but still we persist. no matter that i hold my head in my hands or hide behind my hair a lot of the time. no matter that i am becoming afraid to speak. no matter that i think i want to cry all the time. and i don't even try to tell anyone anymore.

but just yesterday i was a kid and i'd never truly known what afraid meant. i never used the words heavy, burden, weight. now they're always on the tip of my tongue when i taste the air and try to gauge how i'm feeling. i open my clenched fists and think, pain.

what did i do? what changed yesterday? i remember at one point i learned to take a blade to my skin. at one point i learned to change my face. i learned to stop eating. i remember making so many promises. that if lord would grant me this, i would be glad. that's it, i would say. i would not ask for more. i would not need anything else. i think maybe i never needed more in the first place.

what have i done? if i could go back, what would it take to save myself? did i ask for the wrong things? had i worded my prayers differently, would i be someone else? what is this story? could i be doomed before i even begin? i don't miss who i was yesterday.  yesterday, she wanted to be who i am today. i don't like who i am today. i don't know if that will change when i wake up tomorrow, or in a few years.

maybe everything will be much the same but i won't know my heart again. i'll be wondering what was on my mind then. and it's just this: i am scared, cold, alone, and sorry for the choices i have made which led us to this place. i think i am weaker now than i have ever been, and it makes me ashamed.

You're turning eighteen.

I know you think it's a big deal, and well, yes, you should celebrate it. But for the most part, things are still the same and change is yet to come. You will wake up still with acne scars. You will wake up still with painful memories carved into your thighs. You will remember that once it wasn't like this and you will have the vague sense that even what you have now will soon no longer be.

Rejoice in the fleeting nature of this moment, with its infinitesimal relevance and infinite beauty. You live here in this ever-changing space; nothing stays the same and you let yourself be carried from day to day. You drift. You watch the landscape of your heart slowly change. Sometimes the sun is creeping over the horizon and the sky is painted in your favorite colors. Sometimes you watch the sky shed tears and apologize for its mistakes. Sometimes you feel filled up with it.

You're turning eighteen. You're scared. And no, you will not wake up entirely different. You will have to keep being alive without knowing what it means. You will still have to be alone. This is your body. This is your soul. This is your brain; these are the demons you've created, monsters you've fed. This is your heart; these are the cracks, these are the bruises which are still tender, still blue.

If you listen closely, it is still in pain, fighting to beat each second. It remembers how you kicked and screamed and threatened to hit it, beat it to a ****** pulp, if it refused to give up on its own, to just stop, to pack its bags and leave behind a sunken, shriveled mess. You remember you were wearing tennis shoes and holding a baseball bat.

Sometimes, inside you, there are thunderstorms no one can tell are brewing. It's just the weather. Tell yourself that. It's something you will have to put up with and make adjustments for every day of your life. So pack an umbrella, buy pink rain boots and a matching polka dot rain coat, if you want. Bandage your heart better, prop it up with stilts, and whisper good things to it sometimes.

Say you've made it this far.

Bright and lovely
and exciting!
Then time passes
and the colours seemingly lose their excitements
all done and licked
tried and tempted
What's new?
Then some are darker than others,
all shadowing and dull
Then you'd wonder are they the true colours
But, they're not
Shine and polish
your mind
the colours are the same
Just pick up your stained glass from your pocket
and you'll see the colours you choose
Bright, colourful, ... and excited!
As they once were to you
As they have always been...

As a child, I often imagined us as a royal family;
Dad as the king,
Mom as the queen,
And Myself as the princess.
Within our humble little castle,
You taught me how to be kind but resilient;
To be graceful but firm;
To respect other people and myself;
To love people,
Especially myself.
You have raised me as best as you could

But, a crisis swept over our kingdom
adolescence,
they called it.
It affected all the children in the land,
Making them even more rambunctious than usual.
They became irritated
and isolated themselves,
all the while their innocence fading.
Of course, it affected your little princess,
And you didn’t know what to do.

Dear Mom and Dad,
I’m telling you not to worry.
This is not a crisis but a part of life.
When I slam my bedroom door shut,
After we’d just fought,
That doesn’t mean I hate you.
My hormones are just not as calm as they used to be.
Be patient.
I’m not mad at you
For telling me to sit up straight
Or mind my manners at dinner
Or be independent.
I know you are just molding me
To become the person you’ve always envisioned;
You just want me to be more like you.

But, mom, dad,
I am my own person.
I have my own set of personalities and traits
A set of which you have inspired,
Not provided.
You have inspired me to become
A strong woman
But, I have to do it my way now.
You can’t shield me from the terrors of the world forever.
You have to let me out of my tower
Because I can slay my own dragons
and unfaithful princes.
I am not your little girl anymore
But I am still your princess
And you still rule my world.

the world once seemed so grand
every night I would wish for morning to come faster, eager to see what tomorrow would bring
a smile adorned my face and a sparkle brighter than the stars twinkled in brightly lit blue eyes

things have changed since those innocent days
dreams and aspirations have been replaced by reality and doubt that there will ever be a future i want to see
the night time seems so heavenly and i am eager to sleep for it means that i am as close as i can get to dead, shut out the demons of the daylight and be at peace in my