Now That I Am Very Grown-Up

Rating: K plusfor... angst, I guess. And foreshadowing the awful truth of Santa Claus.

Author's Notes: Edited and shapedfrom ramblings I wrote four years ago; I was unaware at the time that I was being poetic. This poem seems appropriate for... everything my life means to me. Hopefully someone can relate. Reviews are appreciated.


I remember red slushies at baseball games
And catching crawdads
In styrofoam cups
I remember how it used to matter

I can still smell the football field
On those August nights
Fresh cut grass
As summer ebbed

I remember food stamps
And lies about Santa Claus
And never ever even noticing
That I was different

And I guess there was something
I was supposed to pick up along the way
But I missed it
And now forward feels like

I can still feel sticky skating rink carpet
Under my feet
And that same shattering feeling
That I am just not enough