hello, again

Tell the little girl that I once was, 

(who read a book every day and wore flowers in her hair) 

who I am now, and watch her face fall.


I am not a disappointment, but I can’t help but be disappointed, even if just a bit

it went this way and that, now it’s neither. Thinking about it seems too far away

and when they asked me what I wanted to be, my eyes lit up in thought.

Now, I stare blankly, nothing to say, mouth dry. 


i recall the day in 5th grade when I stared at my body in the mirror,

after she told me stripes brought my stomach out, 

and he asked me why I was wearing a dress with a body like that.


i was confused, i still am, i was a little girl.

A young woman, they called me. They call me that even more now.

i don’t want to grow up, i am not ready to be a woman. 


i sit in my room every afternoon and try to feel joy 

in knowing tomorrow’s a new day, like I used to. 

i do not lie to others. It is true. It’s true for them,


the days are good but I wake up the next, 

mouth soured with the aftertaste of missing 

what I had


Being and Feeling, two things I can’t differentiate 

so, ask that version of me what she thinks,

and watch her mouth open to respond

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