It was a blur, really.
The scarlet blood poured
down my knee reflecting a lilac bruise,
hands already scratched up,
I felt the warm tears rolling down my face
approaching my lips with salty kisses.
Sitting on the curb of the sidewalk defeated,
contemplating on whether I should get up or
sit here a little longer.
I looked up at the army colored trees
and felt the hot sun on my face, waiting.
Waiting for a sign whether I should try again.
Maybe it was the adrenaline
or my impatience taking over my body
but I felt I was looking down
at myself realizing how pathetic I probably looked.
Until my dad came and took me by the hand,
placing me on my bike.
“Try again, it’s okay.” he kept repeating as the last tear
rolled down my cheek.