“You’re too young”
I’m too young for what???
To be mentally ill?
To be queer?
To be trans?
To have chronic pain?
To be as broken as I am?
To be grown up?
To make my own choices?
What exactly am I too young for?
Was I too young when I was 10?
No one told me that then
They told me
“You’re so mature for your age”
As if the trauma I experienced didn’t do that
As if it was normal to be independent
To be fixing my family
To be facing what I saw
Yet, when I came out, all of that switched
As if I can be completely independent emotionally
But I can’t make my own decisions
They only like me being grown up if it benefits them
When I do the dishes,
When I clean the house
When I console my father
When I make my own lunches
When I take myself to every event
When I keep a calendar and update it regularly
When I find all the missing items they lose
When I cry alone in the corner so I don’t burden anyone
When I am quiet
When I listen well
When I don’t fight
When I hid in the shadows until my name is called
And the second it doesn’t
I’m just a dumb child
Even now
When I go to get help
When my bones are grinding against each other
And pinching my nerves
They tell me it’s not that bad
That I’m fine
It shouldn’t be hurting me
As if I was 60 when it started
instead of freshly 18
As if the pain is imaginary
I’m “too young” for so much
But I’m also “too old”
What am I too old for?
To be running around?
To be laughing uncontrollably?
To be making mistakes?
To be learning?
To be whimsical?
To be excited?
No one noticed
when I didn’t have the chance to experience that
When I was supposed to
As a kid
No one cared when I didn’t get a childhood
But they make it my problem
when I get back that joy
The purity of a child’s happiness
Finding the Words
I find it hard to uncover the words for joyous occasions
To try explain something so beautiful
The moment with family and friends
Where you are doubled over from laughter
Or perhaps shouting across the table over a game
To hear the loud music of one specific person carry through the house
As a big, irresistible smile graces your face
Being able to spend time with someone and feel refreshed afterward
Not drained
A renewal of spirit
To hear the strange phrasing of words from someone
When they are too tired
or too fast
to make sense but still want to talk
The way those words can make me laugh so uncontrollably that I write them down
I keep a collection of snippets from my favorite moments
It feels like time s t o p s…
Nothing is important other than those people
At the same time, it moves ever so fast
Regardless of how much time I spend with them,
it could never be enough
I could never get enough of those people
Those moments
Those enchanting souls
WHY DO YOU FEEL DIFFERENTLY?
Why do you feel differently about spring and fall?
Why do you feel differently about shows and movies?
Why do you feel differently about a blanket and a quilt?
Why do you feel differently about a bottle and a can?
Why do you feel differently about a spoon and a fork?
Why do you feel differently about words and their meanings?
Oh, how the world has its mysteries.
The things that will never have answers.
The feelings that will never have words.
Malcolm Christie 