I was the Father's Day present
that arrived six minutes early.
I once lost my silk baby blanket,
but found it after buying an unworthy new one.
I have been chased by grizzlies
down my hallway.
I've never really liked milk,
or it's unpleasant result.
I ruined my little white bathing suit
while making mud pies with my sister.

Twice, I lost my Italian charm bracelet;
I still miss my dolphin charm.
People tell me I eat pizza the wrong way;
what's wrong with eating the crust first?
I've grown up listening to alternative and rock,
and they are still my music of choice.
I have been to Portland countless times,
Warped Tour, babies and cheerleading.

I was alive to see the devastation of 9-11,
and the election of an African American president.
I have had dreams of praying mantis and paper planes
nightmares of white rabbits and munchkins.
I was torn apart by so-called friends,
and now I am left to stitch myself up.
I have never felt "grown up love",
only the unconditional love of mommy and daddy.
I have seen the torture
of my disputing family.
I have held hands with Fear,
he says "Hello."