Lost Crayon box

Lost Crayon box: If found please call a forgotten childhood

My box of crayons was smashed the day it was given to me,

turned into a pile of colors that made no sense to my still childish mind.

4 years.

4 years of blocked out torment and torture.

The pile of crayons haunting my tiny conscious everyday.

I never knew what a box of crayons meant.

I decided daydreaming was better than the real thing.

I made my own box of crayons,

one the bullies would never find.

My mind became the exquisite colors in a forgotten crayon box.

I was forever banished to the adventures of my own mind.

I flew my own paper planes.

I was my own best friend.

I was a scared little child.

Scared and alone without a real box of crayons.

That's not how a childhood should be lived,

is it?

So here I am now.

The shadow of a scared child always looking up at me,

begging for a new box of crayons.