blossomed early, matured so fast.
they all tell me; they all ask me,
"why don't you just slow down?"
it's their fault.
why can't they see that?
i haven't grown at all;
i'm still a child inside.
i'm still clinging to my story books and fairytales.
i feel like a seven year old girl trapped
in a twenty year old woman's body.
the anger, resentment, tantrums, and outbursts;
can't you see her?
she's begging to come back.
she only wants her mother to comfort her.
she's pleading for her childhood while asking
to be forgiven.
i'm still trying to understand.
i'm trying to calm the frustration.
i'm still a child.
please be patient.
