Godzilla made me do my homework.

There was a time in life before adhd

was considered the ringleader of my faults.

Doctors informed mother to just

Lay off the candy. It makes them hyper.

(the words, no child ever wants to hear)

It was a warning worse than the dangers of playing with matches.

It didn't work...

I am unique, I proclaimed.

Let it be what it is. Let me exist the way I was intended!

If trouble wanted to be my middle name,

why was it so hard for others to accept?

It wasn't until my eyes met his

that my world came into focus.

Was he real or made up to intrigue the psyche?

Was he a mutant lizard or the only dinosaur

to escape nature's holocaust?

I wanted to be just like him and smash buildings,

sink ships and battle monsters.

I wanted his autograph too...

I did my homework every night thereafter.

My attention span found its footing, I did chores, even used manners.

In return, dad took me to the cinema to see the iconic beast up close.

I left every time with eyes locked in awe.

He took me the museum to learn about many animals who once called this place home.

It was fresh fuel for the underdeveloped dreams swirling above.

The day dad drove me off to college,

the mission had just begun — find my own Godzilla.

He's still there, hidden somewhere, patiently waiting until the day I give him a name.