It was through the passing of continents

Where I was bestowed the age where the world would notice me

Spent inside a fortress amongst the city of love

Eyes fluttering to a close

And the world becomes still yet fast all around me in a blur

I envisioned a magical day

A day where I would pass through a portal to being a woman

Only it was spent in the crossing

I woke up feeling the anticipation of the magic

But never the magic itself

Am I so simple that I cannot fully bring my special day to mean something more than what I think?

Was I lied to by the shiny girls on television who this day would change the trajectory of their lives?

Was I not important?

Or was the day simply a childhood fad?

A dream?

To which I was made to feel bad for making it seem lacklustre?

The apparent sweetness of this day had not grown bitter

Or spicy to where it would burn me inside out

Only it had become sour

Awkward 

And almost sweet