submission for KALOS

It seems only yesterday I used to believe in

monsters in the closet,

imaginary friends and tea parties,

the shelter of my tree house,

kisses as cures of bumps and bruises,

and tiaras that crowned me, Princess.

Gazing out my window today

it seems I doubt more than believe.

I hang my head and as I do

I trace with my finger

the aged scar on my knee

from a kickball game in my backyard.

And once again, I believe.

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