the things that used to scare me don’t anymore
but i miss the fears from back then, the stakes were so much lower
i’m living a life committed to someone i’m not
and i wish someone told me it’s okay to be 10 years old at 20 years old

at the end of the day though i’m just some kid in the bathroom at half past 10
scaring himself in the mirror by smiling ear to ear, haunted by shadow people 
letting out the little terror i have inside of me before i go to bed
and having nightmares of who i once was and for who i will become

crying silently for my brother to wake up 
because bugs have too many legs and boys can be so mean and i can’t sleep in dead silence 
begging quietly for my brother to make up a story for me 
about princesses and knights, neither of whom i would ever be

though i’m still somebody’s son 
and i dream about making jack-o-lanterns in the living room with chinese food
the only noise would be the tv and laughing and i know i shouldn’t dream like this, 
expectations are the bearers of bad news

but if the death of a dream is what makes a man 
then i don’t want it

another poem?