I find myself becoming nostalgic about something that hasn't happened.
I remember buying the blue shirt.
Running along the girl with the flowing white skirt.
Memories flood my mind, of a day that didn't exist.
But repeated.
The orange and red.
Mixed beautifully in my head.
On the boulder that wouldn't contain.
Or refrain.
From the need.
To bleed out flowers.
What powers decided to give me a splitting discovery.
A recovery of sorts.
A degree of sports I didn't play anyway.
It's comforting that there is another way.
Another play being played.
Of my hope,
That somebody will care for me.
In a carefree way.

So I can imagine myself running in the blueness of the jacket I never bought.
And I can imagine the orange of the girl who will someday exist.
Although, I worry about the sound.
All of this mental racket.
For somebody I may or may not know.
But I know she's around.

Somewhere.