When you are in the kitchen fumbling with lanterns late at night, a ghost can pass you by.
Fear is paralyzing.
Childhood taught me you can witness the death of a man.
And sleep peacefully at night because that tragedy is not your tragedy.
Too young to be sad.
Childhood taught me…
…you can do whatever you set your mind to do like quitting sucking your thumb.
My thumb was blackening.
Childhood taught me that I was a girl who prefered guns to dolls.
And picked strides like her Father.
Find me on this walk.
Childhood taught that being quiet was power somedays and cowardice somedays.
Words are things.
Childhood taught me that closest friends can be a strangers.
And memories of laughter, sugar and spice can do nothing.
We drift. It’s easy.
Childhood taught me.
When you’re awake, somethings can hold you down, choking you. Demons?
I am alive.
Childhood taught me to read quite early.
And knowledge is startling and bold.
Here I am.
Childhood taught me that if my young friend fell off the building and met his death…
Then my goal to save the world was…
Well, I turned my cape.
Childhood taught me that I was capable of hate and envy. Fire and ice.
What did childhood teach you?