To The Broken Glass In The Bottom of Empty Drawers

When I was a kid

I used to think Caspar the Ghost

lived in the vents of my room.

 

I would tie scarves to my ceiling fan

and pretend I was Tarzan.

I thought my front yard was Terabithia

I’d hide in my closet and pretend it was Narnia.

Everyday after school 

I’d check for my Hogwarts letter.

And I got a white rabbit,

perhaps he’ll lead me to Wonderland.

 

My favorite book was “I Feel Silly Today”

I memorized all the words

To me it was gospel.

 

I used to sleep with all my stuffed animals

because I thought they’d be sad if I didn’t

 

I’d write stories in my head

and act them out with my Barbie Dolls.

 

I was always creating

 

My mom says I could sing

before I could talk and

I’d draw the prettiest pictures

she’d ever seen

 

I wore pink-frilly dresses

and played in the mud

 

I collected broken pieces of windows

and old toys 

that I found on the playground.

They sat in old boxes in my dresser drawers.

 

I said please and thank you

I also broke a girl’s nose,

pushed my cousin out of a tree,

pulled the fire alarm

because I didn’t want to get in trouble,

I stole a toy doll,

and snuck out to the playground 

because I didn’t wanna be in class.

 

That all happened before the age of six

And all at different schools

Most teachers didn’t like me.

 

I watched cartoons and read books

I also played video games 

They all taught me important life lessons 

that are worth knowing.

 

I ran into water fountains 

in the middle of a big city

and didn’t care that people 

stuck their noses up and shook their heads.

 

I used to keep a lot of secrets

My stuffed animals only understood me,

because sometimes they saw things.

 

I don’t often write about the good parts of my beginnings 

So I’m sorry that this poem is a little bit long.

Every once in awhile I need a reminder,

that I’ve had a pretty good life.

Despite the broken glass sitting in the drawers of my dresser.

Despite not ever finding the second star on the right

Or a bunny with a stopwatch.

Or giant to tell me I’m meant for something greater than this.

Despite the broken toys or scraped knees.

 

Thank you for reminding me.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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