Forget what they're saying
Whatever happened to friday nights? To mary janes and sharp pencils and great loves? Where are all the daisy chains and wishing wells and knock knock jokes? Where are our plastic lunchboxes, juice boxes, shoe boxes filled with love letters, with post cards, palm turkeys and class pictures? How do you out grow a yo-yo? Was anything ever really as good as that last day of school in June? Has anything ever lived up to that one christmas morning, to just holding hands or passing notes, to that last dance at the prom? When you could never love anyone as much as your parents, or that guy on that show you just couldn't stop watching...when sleepovers weren't about fucking but popcorn and prank phone calls and pillow fights...when the best night out was Mcdonalds and a movie or the playground and the root beer stand...when you first realized that boys didn't have cooties *or if they did, you wouldn't mind his*, and how well you performed at capture the flag and kickball was everything....when you never went to bed lonely and you knew your Daddy would protect you from anything.......when a goodnight story and a kiss meant you'd sleep so good...where are all our paper dolls? Our sugar highs? Our candy necklaces and promise rings and friendship bracelets and the secrets we kept, we shared, we whispered and laughed over? Where are all our happy endings?
.....or how it felt beneath those bleachers at the homecoming game...or the way your stomach jumped and your hands got sweaty as that bottle spun...and when you felt your heart would never slow down after running across the bases, rolling down a hill, seeing that shadow in your room....when every finger painting you did was up on the fridge, when you had to call your best friend every day *sometimes twice or more*, when the world was so big and wide and nothing was impossible....when working your ass off meant mowing lawns or doing dishes and making your bed...when responsibility meant feeding your gold fish and walking the dog and holding your baby sister's hand when she crossed the street....
...this...all of this....is what we're supposed to grow out of?