with stew, i grew

nine-fifteen p.m. in the kitchen.
i hear everyone settling down for bed
like the muffle of the upstairs tv
and the buzz of the shower running.
i look down at the bowl of stew before me
and can't help but feel nostalgic.

the smell of the stew basil sent me back
to halloween in the fall years ago
at my old house where i'd run around and
jump in fairy costumes thinking my wired wings
could make me fly to the moon.
i'd litter my bedroom floor with plastic toys
and giddily watch the flicker of the
yellow glimmed fireflies visiting
from the outskirts of the woods.

i can't help but feel at peace through
remembering the time where i felt
safe from all harm.
i didn't even know what harm was.
i only worried about vegetables and bedtimes.
it's bittersweet because now i'm realizing
that childhood is near end.

both older brothers are moving out
and i'll be the only child home.
the house'll be quiet and i'll feel lonely.
technically, i'm a woman now
because i bleed out of places and i
try to impress guys now instead of
accusing them of cooties.
now i apply for scholarships and worry
about ACT scores and resumes.

wow.

my childhood is ending.
this stew suddenly stopped tasting so good.