henniebear@kua

Two doors, both locked, neither mine.
Two names, one I gave up.
Two voices, both demanding I choose.
A home is a shelter. A home is a question.

Girlhood is texting your crush because it's late at night and you don't know any better. 

Girlhood is staring way too hard at the prettiest girl in class. 

“Just grow up.” “Take your time.” “You won’t be a teenager forever.” Good, I don’t want to be. Always stressing about due dates, or tests, or studying, or the future, or absolutely anything at this point.