I used to get so angry at the broken pieces of the world.
I used to cry when they cut me
or if I saw them cut anyone else.

Now I turn to mist —
spread out, light, floating. 
You can't hurt mist.
No one knows when mist weeps, 
secretly, where no one can see.

I used to be excited to grow up.
I used to think that I could change the world into the perfect place
because it wasn't that far from perfect. 
I used to believe everything would be alright in the end.

Now I want to dig my feet into my youth 
and never leave behind the days when I felt so safe.
Now I want to ruin all the perfect things
because they are not real.
Now I know we don't live in a world with happily ever afters.

I used to take so much for granted.
My school —
I thought it would be fun to have a few weeks off because of this mess.
My room —
that I could hide away in for hours at a time,
now my prison cell.
My friends —
who also love books and games,
who I could laugh for hours through the night with,
who I was locked away from for so long.
My little town —
keeping me safe, 
a soap bubble in a hurricane.
I have seen the storm outside,
felt its winds buffeting me around.
It's only a matter of time till my bubble bursts.

I used to never cherish laughter
because it was so common in my life.

Now, after I was locked away, 
told I was being kept safe,
kept healthy,
after all those months of lonely
letters written
and tears being born into the world –

Now, I harness that laughter,
ride it high into the sky,
maybe higher than I should,
but I don't care
because it's worth it for the flight.
I am not so scared of falling now
because by keeping me safe in my tower
you have already broken me.