Somewhere along the way

 

I do not remember when it happened.

I cannot recall the precise moment when I lost interest in coloring books and playing dress up.

I cannot give you the exact date when I played with my Barbie doll for the last time.

I just know things have changed.

 

Somewhere along the way I grew up.

I traded in coloring books for journals where every page is filled with the whispers that escaped my soul.

Swapped the 64 pack of crayons for an extensive vocabulary.

Instead of playing house, I spend my free time listening to words dance with the notes that follow after them.

I no longer desire to become a princess but rather apsire to inspire. 

 

I suppose there are still pieces of me that have remained constant.

I am still just as clumsily as use to be

Sad movies still make me cry.

And my imagination is still as strong as it was way back when.

 

 

I wonder if these things happen in a single moment or are they the product of years of self searching.

How is it that parts of us are exactly the same and other parts extremely different?

When is it decided that we must shed our child-like skin and replace it with that of an adult?

 

Regardless of how or when it happens does it not make us more intriguing?

To know that we can evolve so effortlessly into a better version of ourselves.

We have been gifted the chance to become whatever we desire.

And is that not beautiful? 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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