The Curious Way Things Change

When I was eight years old
I had scraped up knees and hopscotch squares
kisses were poison and friends were forever
I was innocent
the world was beautiful
nothing could go wrong

When I was twelve years old
I had scars on my wrists and razorblades
kisses were poison and so were people
I was too young
the world was broken
everything was wrong

I am sixteen years old
I have haunted eyes and poetry
kisses are complicated and friends are precious
I am unsure of myself
the world is beautiful
and everything around me is changing.