I knew I was no longer a child when the monsters from my closet first appeared in my mirror.
I knew I was no longer a child when my mother made sense.
I knew I was no longer a child when I would have given my freedom,
In exchange for one last pillow fort. I often catch my self staring at the second star to the right.
I hope the little girl with wonder in her eyes and fire in her heart is too far to see who she grew to
be but close enough to remind me that though I am no longer a child, I am never too old to
live like one. I am never too old to love like one.