I am a child
I know I am
My skin is wrinkled
Warped
The shoddy sewing evident
As the withered yarn barely holds me
Together
I know I look old
But I swear I am young
The comfort of the sun still infantile
I do not want to know it’s burns
People look at me
They take me as ready
Loss pushed upon me
Yet I remain childlike
The comforting solitude
For my peers mature
Like immovable statues
They are secure
Dropped from the arms of another
I wobble on newly formed legs
I do not know them yet
They have existed my whole life
Yet they remain foreign
So I must be young
Why else would the instruction manual be so difficult to read?
I haven’t learned the swooping letters
Why red and yellow lights blare
Siren screeching
I am too young to know
Yet no one covers my ears
No bedtime stories are told
All I hear in the dark is my voice
A mantra repeated indefinitely
Til darkness consumes
I am safe
I am clean
The dirt on my legs
The blood on my hands
The phantoms on my skin
They do not exist
I will it to be
For in youth
Imagination reigns supreme
So I shall have my haven
Stories of my own creation
As my ship crashes into orbit
I will feel a searing pain
Heat engulfing
But it is merely the warmth of a hug
The sweet welcome of home
Once I reach land
I will already be one
My bones turned to dust
A casket and a husk
