Soft rock and long drives.
Lemon colored hair whipped through the wind as I crooned softly.
Timidly.

Then came the age of tu-tus and toe-shoes.
Everything was supposed to be painless.
I looked nervously out into the audience.
I saw crowds of eager aficionados in my tiny mind.
I awoke to find a living room strewn with colored scarves and tap shoes.
The hum of gentle violins.
The melody got louder.
Straight bangs, and tin lunch boxes.
Long talks.
“Mommy, where is John Lennon?”
I became a young philosopher,
As a crammed my tu-tus and toe-shoes into a trunk.
I had outgrown them.

I waited.
Trying to find myself.

I became unruly.
The clash of livid base guitars and screeching voices-
Fit my trench coats and leather shoes.
My sea colored eyes still shone through the heavy make-up,

Almost splattered about my face.

I looked down at my cut tee shirt and black denims--
What had I become?

I washed out my maroon colored hair
Ridding myself of all evil,
My ripped tights were mended
With multi-colored yarn.

I became an independent queen.
Flowers, long dresses, rich lyrics,
Never to be interpreted.
Just come as you are.
I did.