When I was nine I remember I used to sit on my grandmas floor, while taking a breath and opening my eyes in front of her showcase, in early days I waited this month a lot, not only because of my birthday, it was just her hand opening that tiny space and lending me one of her ceramic cups as a gift.
The cup that it is on my bed frame (or better say "was"), came with me just as all of my belongings, its pink, but you could even tell a difference in spark of the mold sitting on it, but once, I swear it was pink, it stayed with me when I moved to my stepfathers house, but stayed there when we had to runaway after my stepfather hit us on a Saturday early morning.
I was mad with myself, for not letting "me" take a hint and absorb the fear I was feeling in that moment and run for my cup and the rest of my stuff, but I didn't think I could really give one last glimpse of that beige house without remembering life about two months from now, just like two different people with sharing sheets.
As you maybe now know, I was born in October, in the 28th, to be more precisely, 19 days from now, that it's also my present age, its funny cause when I tell people to guess my age they could tell that Im a grown ass lady, or a kid with boogers on her nose, I genuinely feel more gratification when people asume I look younger than I really am, Its like a gut feeling, like im trying to convince myself that I still have time to feel young and im one of the lucky ones
I not good with words
