jexpelmn

I want to fight like my brother,
           speak like my sister, 
          brave like my mother,
          and work hard like my father.
          
          But I am none of them, 
          I don't fight like my brother, 
          I don't speak like my sister, 
          I'm not brave like my mother, 
          nor I'm hardworking my like father.
          
          I'm the little girl who said she'd hide under the tree and watch life be cruel.
          The girl who always run to her sister when she got in trouble.
          The girl who held herself back when there was a fight.
           who sought kindness—
           Even there was none.
          
          As I grow up, I realized I was too weak for this world.
           I watch my role model—my family—
          fight through their difficulty.
          They did not run.
          I saw people whose egos are bigger than their sympathy. 
          I watch people become crueler than lion.
          I watch those who prioritize themselves among hundreds.
          I realize I shouldn’t rely too much on my family, 
          they have their own life. 
          From there I realized: I need to change.
          
          Now, I finally becoming the girl I wanted to be:
          Fight like my brother, 
          speak like my sister,
          brave like my mother,
          hard working like my father.  
          
          Even if guilt follows me till death—
          let it be.
          I don’t wanna be that little girl anymore.
                                                                   -girl from nowhere
          
          

Well, one day
          we might become strangers,
          but I hope our moment will linger and last.
          
          Names may be forgotten,
          smiles no longer quite as sweet,
          hair not shining the way it once did,
          and faces only seen faintly.
          
          But—
          the memories remain.
          Even if they’re unclear,
          the feeling of remembering
          is like walking back into a room—
          where laughter is loud,
          chaos is swirling,
          people running everywhere—
          yet I notice something different:
          the lamp is already dimmed.