I hate the way that you grew up,

simply because you grew too fast.

Because you were a child with an ignorant bliss,

six years old,

forced to exist as if you were 21.

Because you had been happy,

carefree in what was meant to be a life of flowers.

You used to dance through every meadow you could find

because the fields brought nothing but joy

and peace.

Because you didn’t know,

you couldn’t know about any of this at the time,

but I still find myself desperate in the way

that you would never learn how to be

as free as you once were.

Because even though you believe you’re healing,

moving on, the sad fact is, you aren’t.

Your mind, however yours,

will be forever bound to the pressure

and opinions of other people.

Because it’s the same people who have no mercy

when they claim your meadows as their own.

They crush each flower with their steel-coated soles.

They set fire to your fields,

hoping it’ll burn you.

Because it’s the same people who weigh you down

when they place the world upon your shoulders,

hoping you will learn in the same way

that the Earth teaches a lump of coal

to turn into a diamond.

Because it’s the same people who will never admit

to any of the things they did.

They’ll lie and deny everything you say,

or even worse,

they’ll call it love.

Because what they didn’t understand,

and what I wish they had,

is how precious you already were.

They didn’t understand that you were still special,

even if you weren’t how they wanted.

Because you never became what they wanted you to.

The pressure was too much for you to bear.

Instead, you shattered underneath their opinions.

Instead, you scattered with a lingering hope

of ever being able to put yourself back together.

Because instead of offering their apologies

for making you how you are,

they gifted you with their actions,

they left your life in ashes

and told you to build yourself up again.

Because now you’re forced to believe their opinions,

tell yourself things you wish you didn’t,

and you force yourself

to lock away

the life you lived before.

Because you made yourself the definition

of an old soul trapped in a young body.

With crow’s feet etched into your smile,

with wrinkles carved into your skin,

with the bones, back, and joints of someone middle aged. 

Because they left you with the stupid idea that

you can never be as young as you think you are.

Simply because you grew too fast.

And because of that,

I hate the way that you grew up.