nostalgic gulp

seven year old self.

isn't strange how much people change.
from playground chasing, to useless dating.
soemtimes I still wish I was seven.
not a care in the world.
playing in the garden is now nostalgic not real life.
the whole illusion that time passed like a chasing car.
early childhood seems so vague but the pictures in the torn photo album form a photo into a forgotten memory.
when I was seven I didn't worry about my body, the bumps, curves, bones, skin.
it wouldn't have crossed my mind to read the calories in the back of the ice-cream back then.
if anything, it's saddening how things change.
when I was seven I wouldn't judge anything, now I catch myself not only judging people I don't know, but myself too.
boys now stare, undressing me with there eyes, seeing me as a thing.
sometimes when it's late at night i still hold on to the hopes of my seven year old self.
then again, once I hit 12, priorities change, dreams dissolve into mirrors and all my memories refer to when I'm sat sobbing because I hate myself.
if my seven year old self saw me then, I'd be even more heartbroken.
I'll never get to be seven again, and that hurts more than a bee sting.
I had dreams of becoming a princess, which I never got close too.
if she knew i never made it, she would cry, stomp, throw herself around the room, throw up, kick and scream until her lungs gave out.
im going to be seventeen soon.
still not ready.
it's funny how things change.