On Turning Eight

The whole idea of it makes me feel Like my childhood is over That I will walk into the world, Empty-handed Maybe I should just give up And never get to be a kid That small slice of hope Could save me from ever having to mature And be my own person No longer attached to my mom Like she is my charger And I am a phone and I would die without her You tell me what to do, But that is because you have forgotten That I am eight And you can’t control me But I can lie in bed and remember every digit At four I was a woman, I could give birth At two, a cat Prowling around the house At six, a wizard, The best one around. But now I am mostly staring at that little LED Screen of my phone. Back then, I played outside And my book never sat sadly, On my desk, As it does today. The small words, fading into black. “This is the beginning of responsibility” I say to myself, as I do my chores. Time to say good-bye to sleeping in Time to get good grades It seems only yesterday I used to Make forts, with sheets, Protecting them from monsters But now when I make forts, I watch them crumble, At the monster’s victory