Two More Poem by Maximus D. Redwood

Two more years until
I become an adult.
I don't feel very real and it hurts.
All adults have really done for me was cause harm and—
And I don't want to be come one of them.
I'm so scared.
Let it be three more,
Maybe six more,
Maybe seven more years?
My head hurts, my heart is pounding, my stomach is sick.
This is sick.
I am sick.
I know I may be overreacting,
But after all that has happened to me, maybe I have the right to!
I have the right to feel sick!
I don't want to grow up,
I never had a childhood,
I never remembered my childhood,
I never will remember my childhood maybe
Because of adults.
Take me back when I was nine.
Tell my parents to actually watch me,
To listen to me!
Tell them that electronic devices would never raise me perfectly,
That I'd only get harmed in the end!
Tell them to understand that freezing under someone who has pinned you would never be consent
Even if you never said no!
Tell them that talking to me would make me so much happier,
That it would make me feel less empty and lonely inside
And that it would make me talk to them more in return!
Tell them that maybe if they spent more time with me, they would have caught my groomer
Red handed, that I wouldn't have so many scars deeply ingrained in my brain!
Tell them that maybe if they did all that, then maybe becoming an adult wouldn't be one of my—
My many, many fears.
Tell them that I fear becoming an adult.
I can't do this, I can't think about it without breaking down!
It's around the corner, it'll happen soon, my whole life is going to change!
I'm going to become what has hurt me for so long
And I can do nothing about it.