don’t grow up too fast, they told me at age six while i paraded in plastic heels and cheap red lipstick.
but with this heart of mine, that are many years my senior, my only choice was to do just that. i didn’t want to swap the red lipstick for a dark nude, it just happened.
don’t grow up too fast, they told me at age ten when i blew the candles. at this point, there was no use in telling me. i wanted everything life had to offer, and i wanted it right at that moment. no waiting. that’s what i wished for.
and what i didn’t wish for is to be age thirteen and have people already treating me like some object that is there to stare at and to comment on and god knows what else. i get winks and i get whispers. i get friends and i get enemies. and those enemies treat me better than some friends, because at least they tell me where we stand. but hey, the beauty of youth, right?
beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and the eye of the beholder is pacific ocean blue and his hands are always cold. he likes the colour red. therefore, i set myself on fire. he doesn’t like being too warm, though. therefore, i’ll put myself out and he’ll watch the embers fade into nothingness and the fuels turn into a shade of black darker than my hair in dim lighting.
but i can’t live my life in dim lighting. at some point, you’ll have to notice the golden brown my hair glows when the sun reflects on it. at some point, i can’t be as dark as you’d hope for me to be. i have to be happy.