The voices in my head say:
They say I'm too young,
I don't know anything yet.
Too young.
To know what love even is,
to know who I even am.
Maybe they're right.
They say I need time,
to learn the truth.
They say I'm too young.
Too young
to know what reality is.
But then the voices say:
They say I'm too old.
Too old to play around.
Too old to believe.
Too old to know what's wrong.
Too old to be scared.
"grow up!"
they scream.
Sometimes my voices are too loud for me.
I don't know who I am,
because I'm too young to know,
but too old to learn.
What does this make me?
Am I too young or too old to be anything?
Who does this make me?
Am I too young or too old to be anyone?
My voices are the only thing I know.