It’s dawned on me, I finally see,

what the “inner child” actually means.

All this time, I had been thinking,

“How, at this age, can I unwind time

and go back to the me who was the shortest?”

“Who was she, and how would I know her?

She’s not in the mirror, she’s barely in my memories, and all those who knew her never seemed to really.”

Yet, I had it all wrong, that’s not who I seek.

No, it’s the me who longs to be cared for and carefree, a fantasized future awaiting me.

I suppose it’s not so off from who I am today -

yet “the rest of life” seems closer to its endpoint, and the great big mystery is the me who sees heaven from six feet deep.