Colors and butterflies, Fables and lullabies. Mom can look under the bed, But can’t prevent the monsters in my head. A dollhouse, and dresses. My braids in two knotted messes. The building blocks gave me signs To just enjoy my quiet, child life. “Are you proud of me now?” The voice repeats, on and off again, on and off. When Halloween finally came, Costumes and candy infiltrated my brain But as a careless child, I didn’t stop to think, That candy and calories could cause me to gain weight. “Are you proud of me now?” The voice repeats, Now nearer and louder. My voice. As I look back at these Euphoric points of my past lifetime, I recall the core memories that fill my brain like a glass of cold water. “Are you proud of me now?” Louder, and louder. “Are you proud of yourself?” Thinking. Thinking. Thinking. Remember. Remember. Remember. When I opened up to Christ and let his mercies flood my body. Every cardinal that has flown across my wide brown eyes. Tick. Tick. Tick. Every comforting dog that is now flying high. Every ladybug that we convinced ourselves to receive luck. Every dandelion I blew, I got wishing for a pink unicorn. These thoughts, These sweet childhood memories, Come with a bitter after taste, Like Knowing they will not be around again. The after taste, of childhood is, Scraped up knees, Or falling out of trees. The consequences that are Treated with bubblegum and Bandaids, Hugs and candies. How I wish these past thoughts would presently sail back to me, On a paper boat, Over bathtub seas.
