Cotton Candy heart

Adulthood

No one told me becoming an adult would be so..

...exhausting and fascinating at the same time.

I was forced to grow up too fast.

Yet.. .

The little twelve year old girl never left my soul, she has just..

adjusted to the circumstances,

the ever so uneasy flowing of growth and existence I used to call life.

.. . - life?

I am aware of its mere definition I had to memorise in past biology classes.

Yet have I not found its philosophical meaning.

Common sense and society taught us the basic steps

of living, existing as a mere being,

but my soul aches,

thrives and thirsts for so much more.

It is not fed by that little water and bread crumbs it was given.

No. .

I know. I know. . .

there is so, so much more ahead of me.

So much more for me to learn.

To feel, to understand.

I know. . .

''You are very mature for a young woman your age.''

Matureness. . .

Age. . .

And adulthood.. .

You get confronted by these words and their meaning usually before you graduate and the big questions rise.

Whatnext?

I wouldn't know. .

I still don't

Nor do I know. . .

what it means to be ''adult''

I'm scared and insecure

yet I do what I've always did to survive

to numb my demons

my fears and insecurities in order to satisfy the expectations

and half hearted, false hopes that have been placed on my slim, young and naive shoulders.

I do not know where my path will lead me.

An unknown destination

like sitting in a plane with a ticket I did not buy myself.

I've been taken away the innocent,

careless dream I used to call childhood

and silently demanded I become the person that has left your side.

To fill the ever growing emptiness that has taken over your body, mind and soul.

I do not blame you for what cruelty and tragedy has been inflicted on you.

I forgive you.

So please. . .

be patient with me

keep the water flowing

Don't stop. Don't you ever stop.

This flower grows at its own pace for it has yet to figure out what its purpose will be.

What it is going to become

But I promise you my love,

It is going to bloom in ways your eyes have not ever seen yet.

It will have withered, dead and dried out petals, thorns and perhaps even parasites intending on ending it.

But I know you will be there.

Watching (protecting)

and awaiting its bloom.

A beautiful spring in colours and forms no one might expect.

She is something special.

Soft and gentle yet unaware

of what she is gifted with by the universe.

Give her time to adjust.

To grow. To mature.

To become an adult in her own pace. To let the little twelve year old girl become the adult she wanted to be.

. . . - slowly.