We were the ones forced to grow up too soon.
When we were 11.
Other kids were playing chubby bunny, while we were playing russian roulette and some of us got shot.
When we were 12.
While normal tweens were yelling for their mum to bring them a towel we were yelling for our mum to save us from the strange men on the street.
When we were 13.
Instead of going to parties we went to funerals and at every single one they said 'they died so young!'
They didn't die young, they were killed young.
Killed by societies knife of expectations at their throat,
Killed by the bullets of insults shooting from children's mouths,
Killed by the blade they dragged against their skin,
Killed by the weight of the world crushing them.
When other people are having their first kiss, we will be having our millionth.
And by that time kisses, just like the word love will mean nothing to us because we were taught to fear them.
Because when the men in alleys gave us kisses we screamed.
And when our parents told us they loved us they used it as a cover for all the hurt they put us through.
We were the ones forced to grow up too soon.
Kids in a messed up world,
Who treated us like adults.
And then some.
