Growing Pains

 

Sparkling eyes and tender flesh are shielded from the world in a tight hug.

A photograph captures my father’s love.

Gentle waves come home to shore, sloshing against the sand, a constant in this changing land.

A sunset paints the azure sky and its fiery orb disappears into cool gray water.

A paradise in a different world—away from troubles and danger—

During innocent days I can no longer remember.

 

Blue balloons and princess gowns and smiles from ear to ear. 

A sprightly girl, I put on shows for all to see.

My mom’s Elly May, and my dad’s Brown Eyed Girl,

He’d take me dancing in the living room and give me a good twirl. 

These are the days that I’ve come to miss, 

And I wish I’d taken two bags of Oreos rather than one. 

Friday night crime shows or perhaps a girl with ruby shoes. 

My parents would welcome me into their arms for a movie or two. 

Easy Sunday mornings and breakfast at noon.

From the radio floats the constant loop that is my dad’s signature tune. 

 

I couldn’t wait to be older and live on my own, like the adults in the shows that I came to know.

I was always too busy and always too tired.

I put in more effort than was required. 

Mistakes found me by the dozen and relationships suffered.

I wish I had swiped left before there was no more of me to offer. 

Unsatisfied and hungry, ready for more, 

I jumped on new freedoms when I saw the open door.

 

Now that I’ve grown in many a way,

I look back and think and wish I could stay

In one of those times where the horizon was clear

And decisions about college wouldn’t come up the next year. 

I take bigger portions. I dress in my own style.

Who would’ve guessed beauty standards would grow far more than a mile?

 

I fear for my future, and I fear for my now.

I know I’d get through it if someone told me how. 

My parents astound me in so many ways;

They do the unfathomable each and every day. 

For a girl who can barely find her way home, 

The world is a shark, looming with the unknown. 

 

What lies in the future, no one can tell.

Before it gets better, it’s sure to be hell. 

I don’t think I’m ready, and there’s so much at stake.

Perhaps I should be left in the oven to bake. 

Everyone’s getting older; I wish it would stop. 

I’d pay millions to the man who could turn back the clock. 

 

I long for the good times, I long for simple days,

Yet I know that no matter how many stars I wish on,

The now is here to stay.

I’ll smile and laugh about the future.

I’ll even put on a brave face, 

But not for a second should you doubt that I’d rather be some other place.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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