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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Experience · #1969049
A poem about the people we become when we grow up
When I was four years old, I knew I would never grow up:
But then, I also swore I’d only ever eat ice cream for dinner after
being democratically elected Eternal Princess of an island paradise named after my dog,
So you can guess how well that turned out

When I was four years old, I stole my older brother’s Hot Wheels
and raced them over the paths through the woods behind our house,
Fencing the black oaks with a sycamore branch on my way back,
Making up games that I’d be able to win before I got called inside for dinner

When I was four years old, I went everywhere barefoot
And my hair looked like shit because one day I found scissors and took them to myself
My mom shrieked when she found me and yanked them blade-first from my tiny fingers,
while my dad just laughed and took pictures and waited for her to realize I was okay

I locked myself in my room because they were making fun of me and
wouldn’t let them fix it, so I looked like David Bowie in Labyrinth for a solid month or so
Until my mom got sick of my dad’s Ziggy Stardust jokes and told him she was
taking me to the library, but drove me straight to her salon instead

When my dad died last February, Mom put one of those pictures in a locket and
let me burn the rest in a pyre of broken leaves in our backyard before I flew back to school
Hanover stopped being home in 2009, but even through spells of stylists in LA and Madrid,
The best my hair has ever looked was the night I saw it reflected in my father’s memory

When I was four years old, I wanted to go to London-
I don’t really remember why, but I’m sitting by the mailbox and waiting for my visa,
twisting my hair between two fingers and now,
now the game is getting back to her
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