I remember feeling sincerely loved—which is more than many can say.
I’ve always known my family cares and supports me to this day.
But my childhood is characterized by a sort of dark confusion;
My memories of thoughts are clear but of sights they’re an illusion.
I remember few specific things like times and dates and places;
I can’t distinguish between the years or connect the names to faces.
The things that I remember most are things others might forget:
A question, a notion, idea, or thought that I had not thought of yet.
I tried to comprehend the world in a way I never could,
Piecing together inside my brain the bits I understood.
Not saying much without careful thought of how the words would sound,
I often said nothing at all—just let my thoughts surround.
I wasn’t very organized, but seldom did I fret—
No wonder my family nicknamed me their little space cadet!