Six Years

Six Years

When I was six years old, 

     I wore plastic tiaras and long dresses, 

Short hair and muddy hands.

I fancied myself a princess, 

So for Halloween, 

That was exactly what I would be.

When I was six years old, 

Days lasted for weeks. 

When I looked at the sky, I saw animals, 

A duck here, a rabbit there, 

Softness everywhere. 

When I was six years old, 

I played for hours on my own, 

and it didn't matter that I was alone 

because I had big enough dreams

to fill my time and my home. 

When I was six years old, 

I didn't know what I was capable of,

And still I believed that if 
I really tried, then,

I could do anything.

When I was six years old,

I was naive, maybe, but 

so carefree,

I think my default emotion

was to be happy. 

When I was six years old, 
I don't think I ever imagined, 

that to grow older is to be changed.

To be marked up with a red pen,

To be put in a line-up and rearranged.