In my 16 years
IN MY 16 YEARS..
They always tell you, Comparison is the thief of joy,
I miss those years of innocence where it was just me and my favourite toy,
I didn't feel the need to look at other people with such ease and then think twice when it came to me,
But as time or puberty or whatever law of nature we abide by has it,
I got older.
And each year I had to say goodbye to an old version of myself it felt like I erased a part of me,
Like it never really did exist.
And then there was life which made every unexpected moment a plot twist.
Each part of me feels like it's own story,
But what type of story is written without being able to dictate what will happen next?
And I can't help but feel bad anytime I catch myself having way too much fun,
Because the last thing I want is to flip the pages of my own story with each page being torn.
It feels like I have to do everything alone with so much but such little time,
And I know I'm not destined for a life to imitate others like a mime,
The one who birthed me into this world didn't give up everything for me to just clap for others,
I'm not destined for a life to live within the shadows of my own brothers.
Each year there was always something new to acquire,
And not just materialistically, after all we're humans, it's in our nature to always desire,
I spent each year writing and curating wishlists on things I thought could make me happy,
Feeling the need to have a lot of friends regardless of whether majority of them made me feel crappy,
Because apparently that's what mattered most in that time,
And as much as I was different or wanted to be different, I just wanted to be happy.
I thought I needed these things or people cos they defined what true happinness is,
And all these years I've spent looking for happiness in the wrong things and people,
I could've just been happy with life itself, for my self and by myself as there is still so much to unfold.
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