i know if i looked hard enough 

into the bed frame of my room

i could see the tears and laughter

the excitement and the gloom

if dusted the dirt

off my top shelf

i could still see my long hair

still see the longing of self

if i took out the stuffing 

of my childhood toy

i could feel the imagination and wonder

the fulfillment to enjoy

If I sat on the dirt 

and felt the grass on my skin

i could hear the cries of a scraped knee

and the silence of a listen

If I dyed my hair 

or buzzed it right off

it won’t change the chemistry

or how curly or soft

If i pound my face with paint

it won’t remove the years

the freckles from the sun

the dull spots of dried tears

I will forever be so young

so tireless so afraid

still scared of the dark

still wanting to stay