Caged.

When I was five,
It was discipline.
I didn't know any better,
And to learn, I had to listen.
So when I started to wear dresses,
When I loved my ripped jeans,
I learnt that it was wrong
To wear what you loved.

When I was ten,
It was rebellion.
My friends were toxic,
And time spent with them
Meant disrespect and disobedience
For neglecting her.
I learnt that hanging out on Fridays,
Meant coming home to a monster.
So I stayed home.

When I was fifteen,
It was acceptance.
While the world was being plastered
With the importance of self-love,
I was taught that my thighs were too big,
My stomach was too puffy,
And to be loved,
I needed to be a size 2.
I learnt that the body defines who you are,
And that I was worthless.

When I was sixteen,
It was adulthood.
I grew up too soon,
And bore responsibilities that were too large
For my own hands to grasp.
But that wasn't her fault,
Yet somehow it was mine.
"It was from the stress of taking care of you".
I learnt that guilt is enough to eat you raw,
At 3 AM in the morning,
When the tears stain your pillow as you realize
That you owe her rather than love her.

When I was eighteen,
It was control.
Your dependence on me,
Stripped away my own independence.
I was incapable of living,
To the point where loving someone else
Other than you,
Felt like a crime.
I learnt that your acceptance
Dictated my own happiness.
But I never had your acceptance.

When I was twenty one,
I learnt that
I'm still five, dressing to please her.
I'm still ten, staying at home to avoid the monster.
I'm still fifteen, hating my own body.
I'm still sixteen, drowning in the debt of the life she gave me.
I'm still eighteen, seeking for her constant approval which I will never receive.
And she's still her.

I am twenty one,
And it is overwhelming.
In her hands
She holds my self-esteem,
She holds my courage,
She holds my independence.
In my hands,
I hold the keys to escape
The cage that she's trapped me in
For twenty one years.
Yet somehow I know I'll be here
For at least twenty two.