~
Six, with my pigtails and chocolate-coated face
When my home was the world and my toys had their own names.
Eight, with the icing on my hands and not the cake
The smile that hid a cookie-raid was the only one you had to fake.
Ten, with my palette and paint-spattered dress
And the worst thing that could happen was making too little a mess.
Twelve, with eyes widened at the harshness of school
Jumping off bridges with my friends 'cause they said it was cool.
Fourteen, with dark bruises and the cuts on my wrists
And I'm all too familiar with the wrath of your fists.
Sixteen, with the innocence all gone from my eyes
I'm not so young anymore but I'm through with life.
~
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