You say

I'm under qualified

to know the pain the world endures

because I'm just a kid.

But little do you know,

I've never truly lived like a child

the only smiles I've worn

were ones for the flashing cameras

my mother shoved in my face

after yelling at my father.

Little do you know,

my mother only looks back at my photos to invalidate my feelings,

and to validate her own

when shes struggling through sleepless nights alone

and when all she can think about is

whether or not she's a bad parent.

And little do you know

that what was supposed to be my carefree childhood

always has

stung

burned

and

boiled

it's way back to the cruel reality

that my parents call

"The real world"

after telling me

that I'm living my life on easy mode.