All Children

We are all children
lost in strange long bodies,
with long lines of excuses etching deeper under our eyes.
We cover them to conceal ourselves from exposure,
for each limb and hair, although grown organically, are subjects,
objects for judgement.

We are all children
lost in a sea of confusion where innocence like foot prints and beach balls wash away with the tide.
We are all reaching out for salvation
or a buoy to carry us back to shore, where waves erode us some more, until we forget our naked selves,
forget what we were stretching towards.
Stretching, our bodies grew longer but we did not know why.

We are all children
forgetting the wonder in the puddles of low tides,
forgetting the important questions about the snails and why they stick to the rocks,
forgetting how to cry,
how to feel,
how to say I love you before bed
and know it will always be there in the morning.

We are all children
pretending to like our bodies,
pretending we are tough,
swimming away from shore and trying to keep afloat
as we choke down salty tears and water,
we are trying to prove ourselves
to ourselves
that it will all be ok,

because inside we are all children
reaching out for love
from ourselves.