my parents stole my childhood with a compliment.
"you're so mature for your age,"
they said, like it was a gift.
at 8, i was handling conversations meant for eighteen.
at 12, i'm solving problems meant for twenty-one.
maturity wasn't a choice, it was survival.
while other kids threw tantrums, i swallowed mine.
while they played, i parented.
now i'm an adult who has everything,
but doesn't know how to enjoy anything.
"maturity" was just another word for "useful."
i deserved to be immature, messy, childish.
i deserved to be a kid.
Related Subjects
Poetry