And I remember the places I saw when I was a child
The dark basements I explored with the cans on the counters
And the dust particles floating around that I thought were little world's within themselves.
I remember the smell of my mother's perfume and how it gave me instant comfort and the way I could make up stories in my head and replay them until I fell asleep.
I remember falling asleep was something I dreaded because I wanted to see it all.
I wanted to build world's with pieces of plastic and touch the faces of my parents and look at cans on counters and wonder how they got there.
I remember the car rides and I'd sit in the backseat and never question the destination or the dangers ahead of me.
I remember having absolutely no anxiety.
I remember visiting my aunt and not questioning her bizarre, compulsive tendencies.
I remember feeling happy and free.
And now I run away from dark basements because I can smell the mold and the dust floating around makes me nauseous.
I am scared of my future and make sure to find out every destination.
I'm aware of too much and too oblivious to care.
I was always a sick, miserable kid I guess I just was never aware.