I saw a baby picture of myself the other day
Not much has changed
I was smaller back then
less hair, quite a deal
shorter
But most things seem the same
Same piercing green eyes
even as a baby
they never were blue
like normal babies have
Same long pale fingers
itching for keys to press
A defined widow's peak
with tufts of ginger curling around it
And a glowing mysterious smile
that my parents' friends swooned over
even without teeth
The constants vary though
My eyes are pillowed by exhaustion
my fingers are chipped at the ends
I am too busy to push back
my long red hair and expose
my widow's peak once more

Something about that picture puzzled me
something different
when I looked into the mirror
at night while brushing my teeth
examining my pores
scrubbing away my eyeliner
and crawled into bed

and staring up at the cracks in the ceiling
it hit me.

Smiling.
I don't do too much of that anymore.

In other words, I was
an extraordinary child
that grew up to be
quite ordinary.