I was 3 once.

Peanut butter and celery.

It's morphing time!

Grass tasted like

Splenda (before I knew obesity epidemic.)

Liking someone was just wanting to be around them.

Honesty:

I don't like you,

She smells like eggs.

Mommy and Daddy don't like each other

Anymore.

They still live in the same house,

But the air is heavy.

Rebellion isn't v-neck t-shirts that

Smell like a car full of teenagers

at 1 AM. It isn't sad and

bloody bedroom sheets when the parents

aren't home. It's whining

Why Daddy, why

can't I?

Why does that man live on the street?

Why do his clothes fit in a shopping cart?

Pigeons scuttle,

Steam twists,

I don't understand.

When did we stop questioning?

I'll show you mine, you show me yours.

Just curious.

It's okay if you don't know everything.

So why does that man live on the street?

The obvious answer:

He does not have a home.

But why

Does that man live on the street? Why

him? Why

not me? Why

Can daddy come home with red lipstick collar and

A lipstick red corvette? Why?

Why?

Don't answer that.

Or Are we better?

Is that how it's supposed to be?

Is that right?

What is right?

Don't answer that;

Learn to avoid direct hits.

Simple:

Bad or good.

Wrong or right.

That's all 3 understands

Pure survival.

We can't keep them,

Snatches of bright green snagged in hair,

Stained ankles,

Forgotten puddles of cherry flavoring #47.

They are the future.

They'll be 5'8''

And they'll have pain and

Joy in one ascent.

Then they'll let themselves

feel the sweat of a hot pork roast

And say I was 3 once.

Regress! Regress!

Please,

Stay 3.

Keep watching an old man speaking monosyllabic,

Repeating,

Puppets.

Don't roll your eyes!

Yes, yes,

I know mommy is the woman you

love morer than anyone.

It's true dear,

Boys have cooties and

Syphilis is a Pretty

Princess who finds her Pretty Prince,

I promise,

If you'll promise to never

Get there.

To never have to glance at a circle

Of small people with your face and say

You know,

I was 3 once.