When I was a child I thought like a child

I played like a child

I joked like a child

I smiled like a child

I had faith like a child.

At 9 years old I deemed it absolutely, one hundred percent necessary

to disassociate myself from every single childish way, thought, and action I had once held so dear.

From that day, I was never the same.

With that fateful action whence I destroyed my childish

thoughts, jokes, smiles, and faith I subsequently lost something. Big.

I lost my Goodnight Moon and the peaceful airs of that great green room

I lost my Little Engine That Could. Man, that guy. He understood.

I said goodbye to “I think I can, I think can.”

How could I do that, and think that was smart?

Cause at 9 years old I thought I had to be tough enough?

Had to be smart enough? Had to be old enough?

Well. I wish I could have told myself that day,

that every thought, every joke, smile, and ounce of faith I had as a child

I would spend a lifetime trying to get back. Trying to live again.