I wish I was in kindergarten again.

I have this hurt, and it's really not cool.
It's the kind of hurt that never goes away.
It's the kind of hurt that crawls under your skin.
It's the kind of hurt you get when you open that brand new box of crayons, and your favorite color is broken.
It's the kind of hurt that you get when you REALLY want that new toy and you run down the stairs on Christmas morning hoping to see that "Santa Clause" brought it, and it's just not there, and you search and search, but you can't find it.
It's the kind of hurt that you get when you fall off the monkey bars on the playground, and it doesn't physically hurt, but everyone is laughing and that embarrassment just...hurts.
It's the kind of hurt that you get when your teacher tells you that you are the helper for the day, and you can pass out all the papers, but then she calls on that other girl or boy.
It's the kind of hurt that you get when you're friend tells you she hates you.
It's the kind of hurt that is so annoying, like when you are laying down on that extremely uncomfortable mat inbetween the girl that gets up every five minutes to go to the bathroom, and the boy that has WAY too many stuffed animals and they roll over and hit you in the face.
It's the kind of hurt that grows on you.
It's the kind of hurt you wish you could let go, but no matter how much you ignore it, or how hard you push it away, it just won't leave you, and it pokes at you like the kid in the seat on your left.
It's the kind of hurt you feel when someone just won't listen to you, and you are crying and your tears are staining your blushed cheeks and they just won't listen and they don't believe you and it hurts.
It's the kind of hurt you feel when you are at the doctor, getting the first memorable shots, and that prick hurts so bad, and you can't stop crying until you get that cool dinosaur band-aid, but even then, it still hurts.
It's the kind of hurt that you feel when you are so close to winning the spelling bee and this is your word and you know it and you spell "ade" instead of "aid" and you go sit on the swings and cry because you wanted to show that golden trophy to your dad so bad when he came home from out of town.
It's the kind of hurt you feel when you spill mango juice on your BRAND new shirt.
It's the kind of hurt you feel all the time.
It's the kind of hurt that gives you nightmares.
It's the kind of hurt that never goes away.
It's the kind of hurt that makes you cry yourself to sleep at night.
It's the kind of hurt that hurts more than anything else.
I wish I was in kindergarten again, but even then, that hurt would follow me.