sea
sand
freedom

I was a gifted child. Until I wasn't. I was the golden girl. Until I couldn't burn anymore.
My parents expected me to build wings of gold and fly further than anyone could ever try. I don't blame them, having a child to raise is like sculpting a clay ***, you can shape it the way you like, paint it the color you fancy. To raise a child is to play God. To raise a child is to be God.
But to be a child is to fall, to make mistakes, to fail. The thing about being too bright at an early age means you burn out by the time you're 16 and suddenly the world around you becomes more gray and terribly, terribly lonely. The fire is never warm enough, nothing is ever enough. And one day you find yourself begging to a godless sky, begging for a new spark.

I came
to the foreign city
hoping to find myself
but instead
I have lost myself
even more

My hand moves left to right,
over a blank piece of paper,
smudging what I write.
As my sleeve
absorbs my pens red ink,
The edge of my white sweatshirt
turns a shade of light pink.
"just roll up your sleeves"
I can't, not even a little bit.
It may not seem like a big deal to you,
but that's where I hide my secrets.
You may be okay with sharing yours,
But I try to forget mine exist.
You write your secrets in a diary,
and I write mine on my wrist.