tiara
flashback. playground swings. coke and vanilla ice cream. cotton candy and your very first kiss.
but now you’re twenty-one and life has passed you by. you’re stuck in yesterday, drunk today and hung-over tomorrow. you listen to songs that linger at the back of your mind and write poetry about love that never did happen. maybe it’s because you’re selfish and because you’re afraid to take risks.
boys. you never did figure them out. what’s the sense in starting now? you were always the wallflower. the bookworm. the nerd. the loser. the list goes on and on.
flashback. depression. prescription pills. thursdays and rain.
but now you’re still a girl-child. you never did grow up. caught in between denial and the truth. your heart is broken and I suppose it’s up to me to pick up the pieces.
you dressed me up in tragedy and taught me how to turn fragments of myself into words even if I'm messed up and falling apart.