Young



I am young
I was younger then
Eyes wide with wonder
Hyped up and bushy tailed
I look at my younger self
With disdain
Spitting on what I was once proud of
In the corner of the attic of my interest
Sits the remnants of my life back then
We are naïve, then
Desperate and lonely, then
As we grow older
Our skin becomes too tight
The bitterness sets in
The noise makes us snarl
The dark feels too dim
And we let the burnout sink under our skin
Our shame growing
Our hatred turning to our freshly younger selves

By these words you'd possibly think I'm a bitter old lady
But I'm 19
Haven't lived the worst of it
Haven't lived the best of it
I haven't lived
Never had to provide for myself
Never kissed a girl
Never lived the loss of a loved one dying
Never lived on my own
"What's the rush?" I'm asked
For every milestone a new one takes its place
"When you turn 40 you can worry about being forever alone"
"When you turn 30 you can worry about still living with family"
"When you're 50 you can claim that you are old"
Fair enough
Point taken
But I've had an abusive relationship for six years
Starting from when I was 5 years old
With a kid who had far too similar of a rap sheet to my own
I've loved someone who was in utter agony whom I wanted to save but couldn't
I've feared my whole life
That I'll turn around for one second
And someone I love will suddenly die
Because I've had friends threaten to end themselves if I didn't stay with them
I've spent my whole life so far
Battling my tornado level emotions
Just so I could pass as people like you
I've been an outcast for my whole life
For reason both my responsibility and not
Watch people younger than me destroy themselves
Colour their lungs
Colour their arms
Colour their dreams
Because the world wouldn't let them breathe
I've wanted to die before I even step foot in middle school
But no
This is not a race
Life is not a contest
I have so much time
I'm not all grown up
I'm still young and loud
Still queer and proud
So tell me
Oh great and powerful adult yourself
Am I in a hurry to grow up
Or still too young to know anything
It's both
I'm naïve
5 years from now
I'll look upon myself in disgust
Shake my head
Say "you don't know the half of it"
I don't
But please
I plead of you
My future self
Adults
Children with drinking permits
Give me some faith
Grant me some empathy
Leave your judgements and sympathy at the door
I know not what I know
I know not what I do not know
I have young wisdom
And old scars
With no idea what I'm talking about
But damn it all
Give me some credit
Otherwise I have no purpose
Other than to just sit in a corner and rot
Until my mind is actually valued
Because I don't value myself at all
Cut me some slack
I know
And I'm learning
Let me be tired
Let me fall apart every now and then

About this poem

I judge myself a lot. It's one of the side effects of living in my own head. I remember a fandom I was a part of when I was 13 that now I find extremely cringeworthy. I remember being mad at my younger self for being so clueless, and I realized that that was an extremely unfair expectation of me. Then came all these thoughts on what I'll think of myself now in 5 years, and got anxious. This was the plea I wrote in response.

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Written on October 12, 2020

Submitted by AshOfRuins on June 15, 2021

Modified on April 14, 2023

2:56 min read
7

Quick analysis:

Scheme XABXCXXDAAABXEXXEFG HIJJXCXFKXLKHMXXXMKXNXXXXXONPGXXXXXQLXIRSSHCRFXHXDXJXXOCXXXHXQQXXXTXXPXTXQFXA
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 2,733
Words 558
Stanzas 2
Stanza Lengths 19, 77

Ash Barnard

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