As a child,
I used to run my hands
on the walls as I walked

Adults around
would warn me
about the filthiness
of those dust, graffiti,
*****, and poster covered walls

But touching them gave me
a weird sense of accomplishment
Like physical proof
that I was once here

moving forward

Today
I will not worry
what bacteria
this wall holds
what molds
have aged on its corners

Instead, I'll run my hands
with every step I take

smiling
because I am,
once again,
*moving forward