trying to understand.

when I was 5,
i truly believed
the world was a wonderful place,
my mother's big hugs were the greatest thing in the world
crossing that big empty street annoyed me
playing oswald in my neighbors front room
with the glass tables
and that grandfather clock
that scared me every time it rang.
when i was 7,
i lived and breathed happy.
i would come home with my best friend
i would read and write stories
once i wrote a story about an evil witch that took over all of England
i had such an imagination
that blue's clues would be jealous.
that story
hung in my dad's office
laminated
as a forever keepsake.
when i was 9,
i was queen of the school
i had friends
and nobody cared
that i would play pokemon with the boys
that i would create imaginary cities
that i would make friends stay friends
and protect them
and protect them.
when i turned 12,
i went to middle school.
lived the life,
and i felt so grown up
like nothing could stop me
i had a locker
i had a fucking locker.
but i was no longer on top of the world.
words began to scare me.
i hid my beyblades in my pockets
and secretly took them out at lunchtime
because who wants to be friends
with a girl who still plays with
little boys toys.
when i was 13, my life turned into hell
my brain was bombarded by Brian
his laugh forever an echo carved into my spine
i still shiver
my bones cry out in fear
when he looks me in the eye with that
nonchalant grin.
doesn't he know,
how much
he hurt me.
that was the year
when i formally met
alone.
when i turned 14,
i tried to recover.
i surrounded myself with friends
tried to convince myself i was fine.
and i was, for the most part.
i was normal.
i would go to the mall.
but nonetheless, i was still the odd one out.
i never really have fit in.
i convinced myself, once.
i convinced myself.
i am now 15
and i wake up each morning
trying to shake off last nights demons
who etched words into my skull
who break me down everywhere i go
who make me believe
that i'd be better off dead.
i convinced myself, once.
i convinced myself.