I miss the days
When my inexperienced tongue
Could tell infinite stories
When my words
Were not held back with fear of judgment
When adolescent things
Did not cut my sentences short
And my childish locks blew freely in the wind
Clips and hairspray
hold back my unwanted strands
The way society, holds back
My unapproved thoughts
I miss the days
When we wanted to be like our parents
Until they kept us from parties and kisses
When birthdays meant more candles
And more wishes
When stretch marks did not form words of insecurity
And size did not hide inner beauty
When I miss those days,
I think
Maybe we should want to be like our parents
Because at least they always thought
That we, are perfect the way we are


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almost 5 years

Indeed. Two thumbs up Zay.

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