I spend my childhood desiring to grow up.
The hand-made doll my grandma had made for me
in my short nailed hands, which I wanted to put nail polish all the time.
in my purple glass high heels when I was 3, even though I couldn’t walk with them,
I painted the walls of the castle with red color with love to my parents.
My dad was the best superhero that I’ve ever met,
He always saved me,
when witches made my mom convince me to eat broccoli.
My mom,
She was my everything.
Even though she was really bad at braiding,
With my braided golden hair,
When my classmates made fun of me all the time
I was the princess of my parent’s heart.
I had tried to convince them that I am not a princess, I am a fairy.

I can cast a spell, I can be whoever I want.
But I’ve never planned to be who i am right now.

Dancing on the table and faking the smile
hiding the scars in my mind
With my black high heels.
Red tight dress. Red lipstick. Black eyeliner.
You cannot cry. Makeup is expensive.
You cannot be sad when your favorite song is stuck in your head.
Alcohol will take care of you honey, just one more shot.

The morning after a night which I don’t remember whose lap I was on,
When I was running to the bathroom to heave  all the bad memories of the night,
With the terrible headache I had,
I began to think.
Who have I become?
When I woke up between  foreign arms shirtless,
realizing my age hit me in my stomach.
How old I am?
¨You’re only a teenager. What might be hard in your life. Stop dramatizing.¨
I understand people who think
Age is just a number.
It doesn’t represent anything.
Neither who you are and what you can handle,
Nor what life brought to you, or who you have become.
Age is just a number.

Even though she’ll never forgive what I did to her little princess,
I miss how my mom’s tight hugs warmed not just my body, but also my heart.

And I cried more.