The Kingdom Of Adult

I am seven.

I am hiding under the table

With a paperback I stole from mothers’ shelf.

I am on an expedition into the kingdom of Adult.

Past the realms of popping corks,

And secret TV channels

I have stolen from the word keepers,

I have found the forbidden key, the treasure trove.

I will join the kingdom of Adult and learn their magic,

Once I have learned what fuck means.


I am eight.

Stood at the edge of the woods breadcrumbs in hand,

When I hear her calling…

Come my pretty one

Let me show you magic.

I stare at the witches beckoning finger, the honey dripping from her lips.

She looks like a word keeper, someone who’s seen all I wish to see


Her world does not belong in the kingdom of Adult

People in gingerbread houses don’t have popping corks

Only popping candy

And I have no interest in that.


I am thirteen.

I no longer fit under the table so I hide in my bedroom instead.

The monsters moved out months ago,

Off to find a smaller girl who still jumps at bumps in the night.

And a prince is outside my window singing,

Come my lady love

And let me show you wonder.

He is like me,

Words that don’t fit his mouth and gangly knees.

I watch as he sings me his promises and begs for a kiss.

But I do not fly down from my window to greet him

I have not yet learned how.


I have turned twenty-one

And I have folded myself under the table with a paperback from my shelf.

I have been on an expedition, an adventure that surpasses the kingdom of Adult.

I have walked with witches,

Kissed the princes outside my window and,

Invited monsters into my bed.

Seen the way it makes a room tremble

When the magic of child and adult mingle into something better then popping corks

Or popping candy.

I’ve been a princess and a monster and a witch.

I am a word keeper

And I say fuck.

Among other things. . .



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