When I was six, I recall seeing a young, feeble bird that had fallen out of a tree.
I do not remember the color, the clothing I wore, or why I did it.
I made a beeline for your place; you were kind.
Maybe this is why we are wary of consequences.

I know the weather that day was bright.
Like my personality and aura.

How do you feel knowing I am no longer the person I was?
Not because I have matured, but because I am too afraid to meet my younger self.

In your memories, what kind of child was I?
Do you remember? Do you choose to not?
Or maybe, you really have forgotten.

I sometimes wonder if things are different now, but I still can't face her.

Maybe I am not strong enough yet.

I want her to know I am moving on without her being a burden.
It's cruel, but there is not enough love in my heart.

I'm sorry.