There wasn’t a worry in my world or a fear in my heart.
I rocked a bowl cut, fashioned with gaps between my teeth and scabs on both knees.
I was curious and clueless and kind with eyes wide and eyes blind.
You couldn’t keep me from coming alive or asking when or how or why.
There wasn’t a tree I couldn’t climb or a slice of pizza I wouldn’t try.
Unless it had mushrooms or olives.
Even as a kid I wouldn’t eat mushrooms or olives.
They are gross.
At night I’d lie beneath the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling,
tucked into my Lion King bed sheets,
hiding from monsters and dreaming of the man I’d one day be.

And along the way, something changed.

I don’t know when or how or why,
but it did.
Somehow this boy became a man.
I left what was for what has become.

But I have to believe the boy I once was is still part of who I am.

Now, if only I can find him.

For more of my poetry, check out my books!