Dare i say it, but... fifth grade was bliss.
Immature arguements, pain, and depression. sure. it was all there and it hurt so much, but...
it's much better than all this. you know?
Hopeless hoping, Endless yearning, pining for someone you shouldn't be pinging for, wanting friends you could no longer have, excluded from groups, unattainable affection...If it was me who answered, young love and innocent admiration was so much better than all of this dreadful infinity, you know?
Too much being expected of me and I'm still just 14. Too high of standards. Too much to reach and too little to attain. Nothing but praise and candy in return. Not even independence? Independence to love more than just my sisters, to hold someone elses hands and to feel affection from someone else other than my parents? Too young for everything and yet expected to act mature. Make your damn minds, What exactly do you think of us? This isn't neon genesis.
We're fourteen. Children. Children who just wants to hold hands, blow kisses and eat junk food. We get bad grades, bad days, bad everything, you name it, you know it, and yet.
We're still expected to be mature.
Fifth grade was bliss.
Innocent longing, Innocent yearning, Innocent love.
So innocent, so careless, so rebellious that we didn't even care about the future. All we did was get bad grades, play truth or dare, and hold hands like it was the only thing we ever really got to do,
and it was all over so quickly. End of elementary, freshman year and now, we're juniors. Juniors for goodness' sake, and we're stuck in walls and barriers that stops us from doing absolutely anything.
I'm sick of everything.
All I want to do is draw, write, play, and love.
But when can I?
