the mist is frosty and cold
my finger draws upon it
tales and myths of old
i wonder if they bought it

the lies of loving who i am
slide from off my tongue
i ran and ran and ran and ran
to get away from blazing suns

my childhood calls like a mother
waiting for her precious child
as if she knew the others
had been abusing me with smiles

i told them over and over again
that i was grown and truly an adult
that i truly didn't need my friends
disproved sorely by my childish sulk

the window panes are cold
and it hurts to touch my memories
i felt so young i feel so old
i'm just a heartbroken trilogy

i was a babe and then a teen
i grew into my full grown skin
so hard-hearted and awfully mean
that i couldn't ever fit in

i hated growing pains
they reminded me of my age
that i was always always changing
always always a newly flipped page

it hurts it hurts it hurts
these unbearable window panes
it hurts it hurts it hurts
these horrible growing pains