when i was three i knew the secrets of the universe

when i was old enough to hold up three fingers i realized i was God

and there

was something about the way my parents had forehead creases 

but no smile lines that told me

“I am the one they should be worshiping”

and once,

out of fear of a doomsday where i too would forget all my

secrets of the universe

i wrote them down in bright red crayon and proudly gave them off to mama 

who stuck them on the fridge so high

that by the time i got tall enough to reach them

again

i’d be reminded of my celestial greatness.

i am seventeen now

pushing mama’s height and

everytime i visit the fridge

to get stronger,

grow taller,

and cultivate those womanly things,

like breasts and lillies

i look straight ahead and see

bright red scribbles.

i am still trying to remember

all those special secrets

buried deep in my heart

but it’s hard,

because

i stopped using crayon a long time ago i guess.