i closed my eyes, and it felt like everything was coming back to me. all the things i’ve lost. everything that drifted away from me. it felt like i was finally back where i am supposed to be; small, young, stupid, careless, and filled with determination and dreams. i saw colors and sparkles again, after forever. i felt like i finally got a hold of myself again.

i wished that i would’ve had this in the first place, every day. but now, i’m in a dark pit, stuck in between the pit, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nowhere to breathe. this pain i feel, is a part of my identity. it hurts deep to my bones, yet it’s a part of me. with pain, i’m suffering. without the pain, i’m nothing. growing up, i feel no love. resentment to myself grows more and more each day. it grows, too deep in my bones, implanted in my soul. as i hear the echo of those exact words as i’m in a pained state. tears overflowing from my eyes, as i sit to the corner of shame, turning off the lights.

"you’re so mature for your age!" it exclaims, like a slap in my face. those words are deeply engraved in my heart, as it corrupts my mind, for no particular reason. questions start popping out from my head.

am i too young to be this way?

am i too young to be liked by anyone?

am i too young to know about certain things?

am i too young to act like an adult?

am i too young to be listened by people?

am i too young to take on the world?

questions, by questions, by questions never stopped popping from my head. such a headache, yet no way to stop it. i give in to the universe, yet it seems like that’s not what the universe hoped for. words couldn’t make a phrase to describe my hatred to universe. yet, i can’t seem to hate anything, even in a pained, angered, or hopeless state.

i look at myself in a mirror. i look at a reflection of me. i see a pathetic, broken, imperfect individual. not a terrible human being. not a mistake ‘nor a disgrace, just a broken soul. i look at a young soul, and a broken one. nobody beside me, yet i feel a sense of togetherness with myself. no one is here, but the love was there. it was there, yet abandoned, gone. i grew out of love, and fell out of love, lost my childhood, out of pain.

this life has been a wild ride, kind of. yet the question remains the same, are we still too young for this?