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The Gift of Youth
You’re lucky you’re still a kid.
I am lucky.
I don’t need to pay taxes, pretend to understand politics, find a partner, make an income, and hate myself for not being a proper adult.
But I feel guilty
For being a kid.
In the presence of you, I am always guilty.
If I weren’t a failure, you would have back 3 years of time and money spent on watching me call having seizures “ballet.”
If I were a good kid, you wouldn’t regret having me.
If I got half your brains, you wouldn’t be ashamed of whenever I open my mouth.
If I had a heart, I wouldn’t constantly raise your dangerously high blood pressure.
If I weren’t born, you wouldn’t need to question how people like her can become mothers.
If I weren’t born, our relatives wouldn’t need to look at you with pity,
As though marrying her wasn’t a big enough mistake.
If I weren’t born, you wouldn’t be dumped by half the women you’ve tried dating.
If I weren’t born, you wouldn’t have an extra unwanted mouth to feed.
If I really loved you, I wouldn’t still be here.
The child in me wants to roll my eyes at all your “what if’s”
The person in me wants to cry
Because I am guilty
For eating away your time
I suppose my punishment
Is to forever be just a child in your eyes.