When I was 4, I wanted to be an astronaut

I would sit in my laundry hamper and fly down the stairs

The aliens would visit me in my backyard, and I would talk to them.

We would battle the space monsters together, and we would win.

I never needed a friend to play with 

because my own company was enough for me.

When I was 8, I wanted to be doctor

I would give my stuffed animals check ups

They would tell me where it hurt, and I would fix them.

I would help them feel better because that was what I wanted to do.

I wanted to help all those around me so they would never feel pain.

When I was 11, I wanted to be an architect

I would play with legos for hours making structures,

I would build mansions for the imaginary families that didn’t have one

The families would tell me what they wanted to have in their homes— 

A basement, a hot tub, a backyard.

All I wanted to do was create a safe place for these “families” 

where they would always be comfortable.

I’m not a child anymore, and I all I want to do is survive

Maybe even with a smile on my face–

The aliens are gone, and I have nobody to talk to. 

Now the only thing I’m battling is myself.

Everyday is harder than the last, 

and I don’t know if I can handle another blast.

Now I am the one that needs help,

And no one is coming to check up

Now I am left to save myself, but I don’t know if I really want to.

I have no structure and everything is falling apart

My safe place is gone and 

I don’t even have people around me to keep me company,

And I’m living so uncomfortably,

I wish I could still feel as bubbly as I did when I was younger.

I wish I could still be that astronaut that soured around care free,

Just wanting to have a good time.