Broken Heart by Pedro de SousaBroken Heart by Pedro de Sousa

At Sixteen

I wrote this piece when I was 22; a naive, disillusioned girl who dreamt of something big but never had a chance to realize it.

Feeling nostalgic, I cleaned out some of the boxes housing manuscripts and quickly scribbled nothings in napkins and torn pieces of paper. It was nestled between two stickers that melded together, its adhesive just melted over time.

It was one of the poems I wrote when everything seemed to be crashing down, a reminder that an idealistic fool thought she could rule the world, but the world was too big for her even to navigate through.

At sixteen, many realizes that they’re on top of the world. Well, at least I thought I was. And when reality comes knocking, it does knock… and boy, does the realization reality bit me hard.


Temperature’s dropping
The miles pass by
As I gaze out the window,
The only thing I’m thinking
Were the days that have gone by.

I thought of what it should be… the ways it must be…
Because when I was sixteen I thought I was invincible.

All the experiences… all the idealisms…
meshed up and called upon
the pragmatic way I have thought and lived and acted.
It called upon the way I’ve always thought…
that I was untouchable… that I was invincible.

I have nothing but my wits… pretentious it may be
But the only reason that held me back
was the thought that at sixteen
I thought I was invincible.

Strong I am of both body and mind
Never cared for others’ opinions … just mine
I cuss and I followed
all the things they thought was bad
I did it all because at sixteen
I thought I was invincible.

I walked with confidence… I talked with confidence…
I have never engaged in something
I thought wouldn’t give me anything
I have never spoken a word
That I thought wouldn’t do anything.

Caged up inside my thoughts
Various memories that couldn’t be expunge.
Suppressed and repressed emotions
tumble out only when I’m alone.

At sixteen, I have no one but Annie,
An imagined being I pour my feelings to.
Written in the pages of impressions
she’s the only one who knew all it all to be true.

I was a misfit with a reason
Locked up in an illusionary prison.
The only thing that keeps me from losing it
Was the thought that at sixteen I was invincible.

Then the events raged on,
Twisting and twirling my otherwise staid existence
Changing the world that I knew before
Into something fear had inhabited into.

I became aware that it only takes one word…
A snap… a gesture… a beat… a decision
To change what I’ve perceived
And nothing will be as it was again.

It only took a few minutes…
A few measly minutes to change how I see things…
How I see myself… perceive myself
Realization blazes, rendering me numb and out of my wits.

It only took a few minutes… just a few minutes
to turn my structured, monotonous and staid life,
Into something completely and irrevocably different.
That night, in those few minutes after, I thought…
At sixteen, I was invisible.

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