Young Writers Society

When I was a child
My universe was endless,
But it never reached farther
Than my father's arms could.

I dreamt of strangers
Dressed like mothers,
With freckled cheeks and half a smile
Who kissed their kids goodnight.

I danced with the wind
And pretended it could carry me away.
I climbed in the trees
And felt the entire earth beneath me
Smaller than me but still
Too big to see beyond the fence.

Heaven was always up, and
Hell was only down if you
Looked too hard.

When I was a child,
The woods at midnight
Were full of fairies and elves
Who made acorn hats and
Little flower dresses.

I had a cottage in my head
Filled with doors that
Led to all the lives
I ever dreamt of living.
A doctor, a painter,
A teacher or mother.
Perhaps I could even
Be a mermaid some day.

When I was a child,
I didn't know that the stars
Were dead before I said hello
And the moon only cried
Because I was crying too.

I didn't see the pain
In my grandma's eyes, because
She was my surrogate of sadness
When I was too light to drown in it. 

I didn't know that kisses
Couldn't heal my scars, or that
Heaven was on the outside
And hell was a darkened
Room in every heart. 

I didn't understand that
Tomorrow never really comes.

But I'm growing up,
And I see the fence is six feet tall.
I know strangers don't visit
Their kids on the holidays.

I see my father's arms,
Holding onto memories of me
From before I got too heavy
For the wind to carry me away.
Maybe in another life
I could stitch them
Back into my soul and
Try to reach the clouds.

I'm growing up,
And the moon doesn't cry
But I still do, and now
I look at grandma and her eyes
Are so tired, because
She tried to carry all my
Suffering to term for me.

No one told me there were colors
That couldn't fit inside the crayon box,
But here I am with shades
Of anxiety on my skin and
Hues of depression leaking
From the corner of my eyes.

My little cottage is now
A forest of doors that open to lives
I'm not brave enough to lead.
Lives that passerby fall into
Feet first and headstrong.

I'm all grown up,
And I see it is not the world,
But me, that is small.
And when I shout at walls
They still echo just the same,
But it doesn't make me feel
Like I'm atop the mountains.
Instead, I feel the voices fold
Over me again and again until
I drown myself out. 

As kids we raced for fun,
But now I run because I am afraid.

I have grown old,
Even though I do not  know
Any more than I did in the
Many years before.

I have grown old because
I'm too busy making lists and
Locking doors to notice
The fairies in the woods
And the gust of wind that
Made me skip for just a moment,
Lighter than I've been in years.

Old because being the doctor and the
Teacher aren't about doing what I love,
But how the numbers stack
So that they'll be in my favor.

I am far too lost
In medicine bottles and
Politics to climb a tree
And make the world smaller
Than me for just an hour.