We went from “who loves orange soda?” to take a shot for me.
To waiting in lines at the DMV, from waiting in lines at the school dance like “bruh hold my spot for me”
From N64 controllers to leasing a Toyota Corolla
Dealing with these adult life problems we don’t have no control of

From pillow forts to the rents due
From action figures to hopes of six figures
From razor scooters to shaving with razors
From love letters to car notes
crazy right?

The only losses we worried about were argued through Rock Paper Scissors.
Now we worry about losing jobs, material things and on the news daily we lose our brothers and sisters.

The only pain we felt was scraping our knees on the concrete.
Now we scrape change tryna pay the bills hoping that our ends meet.
I wish I could go back, I close my eyez with my memories and feel gratification.
And the thing I miss most of all at that tender age is my imagination

I can’t believe I couldn’t wait to get big

So I'm supposed to be a grown up now and do grown up things,
Like pay bills and actually go to the gym to do more than look at cute guys.
And I am supposed to find a place to live on my own,
Where I will do groceries and cook meals, healthy meals that are not craft dinner out of the ***.
And I'm going to have to clean everything by myself,
I guess I need to buy cleaning supplies, like a vacuum and toilet cleaner and windex.
And I will work, go to a job everyday,
But it can't just be any job, it has to be something I love because I don't want to be one of those people who hates their job.
And now that I am a grown up I will watch the news,
And shake my head at the politicians and vote.
And my room will always be super organized,
With little boxes for everything and dressers I bought and assembled myself from IKEA.
That's right, I assembled them myself. I may have had to borrow my Dad's tool box but I did it myself.
That's another thing I need to, buy a tool box.
All of these things need to be done now because I am a grown up.
But how am I supposed to be a grown up when I still feel like a kid?

daytime rhythms
of coming and
going


a-swish
a-yawn
a-slam
a-trudge


out the door
in the car
to the place


there


twiddled thumbs
swivelled chairs
barked-up trees
and morning teas
and banter

​
hands
on knees
and eyes to
clock
​

and this meeting
here
and that duty
there
tick tock


a-flow through
time and space
and light
as the
sun turns over
in its sky
and rests its
head down on
the other side
​

then
out the door
in the car
to the place
​

for something quick
to have for dinner
​

then
​

home
​



© 2017 Adelaide Heathfield

Sometimes I look at the old photographs
Pressed between worn out pages
Of times I do not remember,
For the times I keep guarded
I keep no mark of.
So I stare at that little girl
Whose eyes are same as mine
And has seen the same wars as I,
Because the damage was done
When I was a kid.
From then to now
The wars have ceased,
That little girl has seen too much for her age
Than now I ever will.
I wonder when I look at her face,
I fail to connect
That's how I stay away from people.
I wonder if she thought of the future ahead
How her strength then would let her live?
If she knew why she continued to fight ,
If she ever had any hope at all,
Or she thought she couldn't simply die?
Because all I can think now
Is ending it here.
I have hope, I really do
But I look at her decades back
And I don't see the point.
She was so scared, all the time
She had her walls so high
She, the moment she understood
Spent her time wishing to save others.
Her life contained days
That belonged to everyone around,
Her fight thereupon easier.
I guess the problem ensued
When she started to have her own.
I look at her, I look at her
She doesn't look anything like me,
I don't feel anything at all
But pain.
I want to tell her
That is all she will ever feel,
That pain she thought would go away
Would bury itself in her soul
And she will never feel alive again.
I never really recognize her by her looks
It's always how she makes me feel,
I stare at her
And the sadness has remained,
The fear still lines up
And happiness for some people
Is a momentary event
That simply intensifies the pain.

remember your first bicycle?
i was so happy, so eager to learn,
i remember going through so much pain
falling on my face, picked up by my dad
as i cried and he kissed my feet saying
'there, it's all good now'
but then the bicycle ended up being my life
for a few short years
but then it is too small, and i was too big
i have grown, and it hadn't.
so i said goodbye and put it on the corner of the garage.
bought a brand new one.

i realize now, it's kind of like you and me.
you have grown, back then, and i hadn't.
you've made other friends, and i hadn't.
that's why when i'm not what you wanted,
not what you needed anymore, you left,
little by little.
you replaced me, just like the yellow bicycle
that leans onto the wall, unused and forgotten.

Go ahead and drink your hateraid
There is not one **** to be gave
All the hateful things you thought was said
Was only the voices in your head

You turn every word upside down
As a victim you want to be crowned
But we are the victim of your thoughts
In your mind it all gets tossed

The helping hand that we extend
Gets lost as your minds bends
Everything ment for good into black
Till the bridge is in flames, no going back

As you scream out your sarcasm
It only makes to widen the chasm
Then you cry "I have no friends"
You play the victim to the end

So burn your bridges, blow them up
Just don't come yapping at me like a little pup
Maybe one day you'll act grownup
Before someone makes you drink from your own cup