I’ll never forget
those days.
Those seven days—
when I didn’t care
how my hair fell
out of its neatly tucked bun;
when I didn’t turn red
after falling off my skateboard,
after being teased
by my friends;
when I ate ice cream
and popsicles and water-ice
and I didn’t worry
about my weight.
I miss those seven nights
of laying upon the sand,
under the clearest sky I’ll ever know,
away from society
and its pollutants,
stargazing,
listening to reggae
washed out
by the sound of the waves ahead.
I miss feeling
alive,
unlike the machine
I’ve become;
eat, go to school, sleep,
repeat.
I miss
waking in the afternoon
to the smell of breakfast,
weak from
adventure
the night before;
I miss
walking the
empty roads
at three in the morning,
never bothered by
our parents—
as carefree as we
were those nights.
 

I’ll never forget
those days—
those seven
beautiful
days I felt
alive.