Then I Blinked

It's strange
how fast time moves.
Strange and wonderful
painful and heartbreaking and glorious.

I could've sworn 6 months ago
I was 3.
Learning how to ride a bike
under the supportive
sentimental misty gazes of my parents, 
beneath swooping towering sycamore trees
while bright blue, blue raspberry popsicle juice
stained my tongue and polka dot shirt.
Then I Blinked.

I thought 17 weeks ago, 
I was 5. 
My hair in a curly cloud, puffed around my head.
Wearing strange, creative outfits, made up mostly
of sequined dresses, striped shirts, and swim goggles.
Somedays I was a ninja superhero, 
off to save the world from villains
(sorry stuffed Elmo and Strawberry Shortcake)
Other days I was a salsa dancer, fluttering my way
down the grocery store baking aisle.
I used to want a bed hung from the ceiling.
Telling my parents I wanted to sleep like the birds did.
Then I Blinked.

Wasn't I 8 only 96 days ago?
Biking in a dress, thinking
that this world was all mine for the taking.
Braiding long chains of dandilions, 
experiencing puppy love for someone
I'd only talked to a few times.
Meeting some of my now-best-friends for the first time, 
being unsure about eachother, little kids
have such a weird way of bonding.
Unfortunately(or perhaps fortunately, I haven't decided yet)
I Blinked.

It seems I was 11
just last month.

Finally maybe starting to figure out me
just a little bit.
Feeling excited, because in my small bright purple realm
this qualified you as a "big kid".
In such a hurry to grow up more, 
not realizing I should savor 
my blueberry lemonade seasons
while they were so sweet still.
Giggling with my friends
about who liked who, 
no responsibilities, just
too much candy being eaten, playing soccer, tears
about things I'd find silly to cry over now---
And I Blinked.

Last week I was 13.
I think.

Crying and angry at the same time
the day I found red blossoming, 
smudged on the inside of my legs, ruining my favorite pair of shorts.
Realizing I could no longer be just an innocent girl.
Days of making jewelry, using up all my mothers beads,
picking so many flowers I couldn't carry them all,
dropping them on the porch in bright little splashes, 
running back to pick them up.
New opinions, ideas, feelings crashing through me, 
try to keep them in their zoo
but some of them still broke through their cages.

15 now.
Already.
3 years until I become an adult, 
able to make my own decisions, 
to leave if I wish.
Sugarspun summer days, 
some of them a little burnt tasting.
Trying to find time
to spend with my friends, the people I love...
Gotta
have a job now, work so that
I can live my life in a way
that I'm not afraid of it.
No longer is there puppy love, only
straight up love flourishing and unfurling,
so real--  
Days spent on bikes, fixing a popped tire,
this part needs to be worked on.
Seems like my life is moving too fast, slow down, but also speed up.
The bells in my head clang wildly all the time, warning me
that time is running out
and soon I'm going to blink again.