here's the thing about childhood.

we're innocently blinded from reality,

blissfully unaware of pain, 

no responsibilities, 

no stress, 

no fear.

tears didn't stain our youthful skin,

act as a reminder of our heartbreak, 

chip away at our positivity, 

expose our vulnerability. 

the world was vibrant,

the air crisp, 

the sky as lucid as our simple minds.

our imaginations ran wild, 

our laughs more genuine, 

our smiles less contrived,

our hearts whole.

we lived inside a bubble, 

and society was careful not to burst it, 

shielding us from harsh truths,

protecting our naive heads.

but, as children,

we wanted nothing more, 

than to burst the bubble, 

ourselves.

we wanted nothing more

than to grow up. 

and, 

once we do, 

we realize, 

the bubble 

wasn't

worth

bursting.