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to feel as if one has emerged from a cloud of dust each time they wake, has to mean a great deal. 

it's what's on your mind, as you duet with the girl on the other side of your headphones. 

it must feel like the brightening of the day, the singing of the earliest bird, the sweat after the fight.

at least this is what you think to yourself. 

for you it means to be able to run two steps at a time, and chatter in your fathers ear. 

the returning of a familiar feeling, a longing. 

accompanied by the unfamiliar idea that, perhaps this time, you can do something about it.

 

 

poemprosestorywritingpoetrypoet19girlhoodteenage girlnon fictionshort storyfictionthird personmusic

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