Eighteen

Somewhere, I am still that seven year old,
holding a glow stick,
like a star twinkling,
there above shinning.

Somewhere bright lights
are good, somewhere
I’m thankful for being blessed
for not hurting myself from
lost love or capital letters.

Somewhere I am still a baby
who thinks only feelings, she can’t comprehend,
who cries without any language to compensate.

Somewhere, I scream
every time something hurts
somewhere, things still hurts.

Somewhere I am still a seven year old, with a laugh like a baby when sees ‘maa’
Walking along the pavement sideways,
Growing up, not wanting to.
I don’t want to.
Somewhere, I will always be that seven year old…
‘Somewhere’.