I am just like everyone else around me, but completely different
I wonder how many people have lived on the Earth since the dawn of time
I hear a mile-wide meteor landing with the sound of a kitten’s meow
I see my gaunt, giddy face on Templeton’s body at the fair
I want a remote, similar to that of a television, which controls time
I am just like everyone else around me, but completely different

I pretend the toy box is a magical treasure chest to thrill my little cousins
I feel my skull throb, compressed in a vice
I touch a snowflake as big as the sun that never melts
I worry that I will never sleep through an entire night
I cry for the squirrel who lost his life and for the squirrel who lost her love
I am just like everyone else around me, but completely different

I understand I will always look horrible in yellow
I say hot dogs are not real food and my rubber ducky collection is the bomb
I dream of trailing white as I cascade up to my Monkey, to our happily ever after
I try on Daddy’s sweaters to feel safer and warm when I combat nightmares
I hope the world never runs out of marshmallow Peeps or cardboard boxes
I am just like everyone else around me, but completely different