i’m two

i’m two

​i’m two.
not just two.
two and a half,
because the half matters when you’re little.
but i’m too young to understand why Mammy
rubs this coolness on my chest,
how it’ll hurt a little less
if I just give it a chance.

​so, i’m two.
just too.
not too small to speak
but too young to be heard.
i cry when my Mam tries
to pry
my mouth open, medicine in
they hear i don’t want it,
yet i’m still too little for them to listen.

but now, I’m not just two.
I’m twenty-two
but people still say I’m ‘too.’
too young for friday nights in, even if going outside isn’t my thing
too old for pokémon, unless it’s pokémon go – that’s the exception
too much of a girl to deserve equal body rights
and too much of a woman to support feminism
without being called a misandrist

and, I’m still not heard
but I can’t put it down to age anymore
I was too young, but I grew
then too quiet, so I started to shout
then too loud, so I learned to speak
but next I was too bossy (I wasn’t really)
so I began to just think
and breathe in my own thoughts
and let them go like CO2
the unwanted byproduct of being too alive.