When I was younger
I would look up towards my mom
And whine “I wish I were older”
I had wished I were older
So I could be free
Not have to ask permission for the simplest of things
Like going out to the park by myself,
Or cooking in the kitchen even though I didn’t actually have the capacity to create the feast
I conjured up in my head,
Because I wanted money to spend,
On the toys and wishes I desired on the shelves of stores,
The shiny trinkets that I wanted to be mine, just mine.
I wanted to be in my prime
Going out and laughing with friends
Being in love
So much so I didn’t realize all the love in front of me,
Innocent laughs, colors,
No stress, spinning around
Not a care in the world
But now, the biggest worry
Is not having enough time
Wanting to savor each moment with memories galore.
I wish I were younger,
So I didn’t have to worry so much
About being the best I can be
About pleasing my parents
About achieving my dreams
About not having any regrets
Going back again,
To what is me
Without all these trends and influential false realities
We are
We are
We are
Not ourselves anymore
At least I don’t feel like it
So how can we go back to who we truly are?
How to laugh more? Worry less?
Not have to think about constantly having to impress?
Be able to dress and not regret when we confess?
Look in the mirror,
And revisit the old streets you roamed
The distinct smells of the past
Find something that grounds you,
An old song, hobby, food, friends,
The places and people and things you spent your time doing, and do them again
Again,
Again,
Again,
Don’t follow the crowds,
But do what you want,
What your childhood self would want.
I wish I were younger
So I was more free
But with this life, am I not free now anyways?
