Eleven years.
A decade!
More!
Am I so young?
Smart girl.
Pragmatist.
Poetic.
Romantic.
Charismatic.
The clever girl
That uses big words.
Athirst for information.
Molly by name.
Mollycoddled by all.
Respected by none.
Tell me the truth!
It can't be so awful!
People are good at heart,
I know it!
I just
Know it.
Sam says
I'm grown up.
A real trooper.
I'm not.
I know that.
I snoop through
Kristina's diary.
I spy on
Her personal calls.
I'm immature.
But I'm grown up enough
To admit it.
And I cry!
Like a baby I sob
Over the crassest things!
I know it's bad
But I do it nonetheless!
Why must I be so juvenile?
Kristina abhors me.
Kristina loves me.
Sometimes I make her barmy,
But she's forever my sister.
She hates what I do.
She loves me.
This girl is odd.
A protagonist
In her own mind.
She fights
For her rights.
She will not relinquish
Her unique personality.
She is me
And I love it.
I know I'm not perfect.
I flaunt it;
Admire it.
Perfection is overrated
Anyway.
I'm witty.
I'm clever.
I amaze those around me.
Sometimes, I astound myself.
I understand
Why
The ones we love
Lie.
In the end, it is
Purely
All for the best.