To See Kids Being Kids - Tumblr Posts

It’s Odd, Thinking of Myself at That Age

It’s odd to see you with a passion,

A hobby honed in normal fashion.

It’s odd to see you with such cheer,

And I wonder if it’s hiding fear.

You speak of school and say it’s boring,

But mostly good, just a few things annoying.

You give out details I didn’t ask,

But not as if it’s some arduous task.

We’re not the same. You’re young; I’m old.

But when I was nine, I wish someone’d told

Me that I could speak with disregard

To feelings, norms in high regard,

When they were around, my thoughts were safe,

My hate, my sorrow would never chafe

Against them such that I would fear

To tell them my want to disappear.

I had “reached out” even at nine,

Gave up in time, two words: “I’m fine.”

—that’s all that I could think of then,

Depressed before the age of ten.

I see you now, and think of this

And worry I may be remiss

In not prying, re-asking if you’re okay,

So you know I’d listen to what you’d say.

But what if you had never thought

Not even once, about dying?

Killing yourself?

Disappearing?

I wouldn’t want to worry you,

And you seem content with what you do.

Perhaps you are simply nine,

And need not hide behind, “I’m fine.”