hey quick question
did anyone else's childhood come with receipts
because I think mine was factory defective
(but like, in a quirky way)

remember when we used to eat crayons
not me specifically, that's a generalized you
I was too busy trying to teach physics
to my imaginary friend's pet rock

the creative adult is the child who survived
which explains why I keep finding glitter
in really concerning places
like my tax returns and emotional baggage

turns out
trauma is just spicy nostalgia
and imagination is what happens
when your brain does parkour

anyway here's me
turning my childhood drawings into prophecies
because apparently
that's what we do now

ps: my therapist says I'm healing
pps: just kidding, I don't have a therapist
ppps: that's what the pet rock was for
(it had a doctorate in psychology, obviously)