The air tastes the same as it did when my brother and I were bright-eyed children
There is a sweetness that entangles me and whispers in my ear encouraging me to remember
Recall every small memory and every sensation attached to it
Two small smiling children selling kool-aid at the end of the driveway
The same driveway that was so worn it was nearly impossible to draw chalk upon it
Skipping down that well-known path the two children ground into the dirt as the dogwood trees bloomed over their heads
But not all of the past is sweet memories
It's not worth the pain to look back
But I'm addicted, and reminiscing is my heroine
Those two smiling children sold their smiles for heavy shoulders and troubled hearts
Their father pulled the string that knit their family together
Giving it up for another woman's body heat
Their mother saw her children's lives unraveling and reached blindly for the string to stop the tearing, but it was too late
Life is change.
Life is hard.
Life is all those clich's we've been taught
It wasn't the mother's fault
Darkness seeps into the most secured places
Happy homes, carefree hearts, the purest melodies
Those are the places most fertile for sadness and betrayal to take root
Why?
Because no one is prepared
There is no vaccination for that hollow gnawing sensation that trickles down the spine as you try to sleep
I would love to say those children still exist and that their smiles brighten the world
They do exist, but now they spend every waking hour searching pawn shops for their smiles that would never fit their sorrow-sunken faces.