A Sun In The Top Left Corner of My Paper

I wish I could write as my 6 year old self.
I wonder what I would have to say.
I bet there would hardly be complaints.
Or talks of destroying myself.
Instead of lines declaring all of my fears and regrets,
I would write of my favorite color. Or colors.
Cause I never really could decide between blue and red.
I think I'd say, "Blue is my favorite color...
...and so is red, so I guess red is my favorite, but blue is too."
With daily struggles between whether or not to be
A fireman, or a lion, or maybe a pirate when I grew up,
I'd have no time to worry myself about the time.
And I definitely couldn't be bothered with loneliness.
I had toys and imaginary friends to keep me company.
And, albeit reluctant, a few tea parties to attend.
When I wasn't napping I'd be flying, and if I wasn't flying,
I'd be avoiding lava, or the bad guys that I swore were
RIGHT BEHIND ME!
Instead of checking my bank account each morning,
I'd check my treasure chest at the foot of my bed.
Making sure everything was in order;
1 Nolan Ryan baseball card. Check.
1 Forest green wall ball. Check.
3 Uniquely shaped rocks from the backyard. Check. Check. Check.
And 6 twenty-five-cent-machine super balls,
Worth AT LEAST ten kagillion dollars each.
Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check.
If anything were askew I would remain calm and shrug it off.
All I had to do was check one of my super secret hiding spots.
Speaking of which, when I wanted to hide back then,
It was always coupled with counting to 10
And with the anticipation of being found by someone else.
For some reason though, that's not the case nowadays.
When I go to hide now, I want to be left alone,
With no red face from trying to keep my giggles in.
No childish fear of the person seeking you turning into a REAL LIFE MONSTER.
No one to burst out in laughter with once found.
It's just me, alone and forgetting to smile,
As well as every good reason as to why I should.
If my 6 year old self could write to me,
He'd probably remind me of my superpowers
And also to not use them all up at once,
Because well, superpowers run out sometimes.
I think he'd write, "I love you Mom" a few times.
And definitely a list or two of who my best friends are,
right next to a rundown of my favorite dinosaurs.
Most of all though, I hope there'd be this sun that I used to draw
In the top left corner of the paper with red and yellow and orange rays of sunshine
Hovering right above each colorful and waxy word.
I haven't drawn a sun in the top left corner of any paper in years,
And it's beginning to worry me that I can't remember when I decided that was no longer a necessity.

From Memory From Apple (v.2)

We waited but we were hardly sure what for.
You always seemed so preoccupied and unaware of my wandering.
My eyes, my brain, hands; you missed them all drifting from your hold.
I'll be the martyr because you failed to be the artery I needed.
Your lungs didn't work for the two of us, you were selfish with your inhale.
Your heart was alive but barely for you and I.
I began to digest such an awful concoction of chemicals that went unnoticed.
And I was taking in such a poisonous mix of smoke and the breath from whoever.
You missed every breath I took that didn't stem for your exhale.