Would you wipe my eyes clean at 3 am, from rubbing my nose and eyelids into the soft neck of an unsuspecting kitten, where her black fur separates from white? The hairs tickle me, all over. I build momentum, all to a sneeze. You're not here to hear the crack, the blast and the vigour, but I've been blessed to know how I can decipher meaning and have you understand. Who can tell you from the second best, another face in the crowd? I can.

I know exactly who I am writing for. All your off-guided defensive tactics work no matters against this opponent, because I am just not that. Not your foe, not fierce towards you. I may have to tie my tongue, I do so seldom. If you've ever listened to any of that good old wisdom you spread on my hair and shoulders like glitter, wouldn't you know what it means to be strong and vicious? And to hide the greater purpose.

Tell me your name, tell me your place, and tell me all you'd like me to know if I was someone you'd care about. Imagine me being there, staring intently at you for a chance to hold your hand. Hold your breath until your heart races; imagine yourself breaking free from norms, rules and regulations, and social etiquette. It's only keeping you from listening to me, as I'm listening to you.

Am I lacking the years you have had? I know 16 is a lot. But I can offer over 20 of things you do not want to meet in the back of the closet. Still, I'm the girl with the pink dress, the cats, dreaming of gentle dragons and cotton candy.

I'm not up for hurting people. Only defending myself. Are we that different?


Written listening to Vienna Teng - Momentum

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