i grew up, too.
right beside them.

i hit a point,
among all the anticipation,
where what it would become
quickly grew more important
than what it would be.

when it solidly reached our hands,
it stole our breaths and broke our hearts.

but it also served to strengthen
the validity of the world outside
the physical ink,
and the verbal words,
of its creator.

she could no longer tame what she made.

her mind’s offspring
will forever live independently
from their covers.

their characters,
though indebted to her,
may not be her characters,
anymore.

and that,
that is what makes them

timeless.