Sometimes I long for
What used to be.
Days spent scurrying barefoot
Through the tickling grass.
The breeze whispering secrets
That only I could decipher.
Days forgotten.

Now I am lost
In a world of clocks and worries
And responsibilities.
My mind is so clouded over
I forget how to think.
Or not to.

Sometimes I imagine
That now is then.
Attempting to assemble all the pieces
That float carelessly around my brain.
But they are moving too fast
Taunting me with chaos.
They dance to their own dizzy tune
Faster and faster
Until I forget that I’m supposed to be
Forgetting.

I used to sit
In the tire swing
That was tied to the tree in the backyard.
Someone would spin me until
I couldn’t see anything,
Only a blur.
But then one day
The tree had to be cut down.
“It was too old,” they said.
“It had to go.”

Now I do not sit on the tire swing.
But when I look around
It is still blurry.