peanut-buttered toast and worn
jeans, frayed and forgetting
the person inside of them
she left her crayons in two of
the pockets and melted childhood
she still wears the pants
dancing isn't carefree anymore
she has to worry about holding
in her stomach; and who's watching
when she reflected (back then) on the
swings pumping higher and higher
and higher, she imagined
being a mommy and kissing boys
and getting her ears pierced
now all that she reflects is the cold
stare in her mirror and why oh why oh why
did someone steal all her crayons
