Looking back, we never saw this coming.
Our roller blades had a relationship
with the warm summer ground on Friday
nights when our parents would gather
over margaritas and wine; an escape hatch from
the 9 to 5 work week. We killed fireflies the
way we chew on hearts of the ones we love,
rubbing their luminescent bulbs on
the toes of our shoes so that our steps
might light up the night for just a little
bit longer and maybe, just maybe,
we could hold off on growing up.
Looking back, we all wish we could have stayed.
But bare foot soccer on concrete turned into
binge drinking, and alcohol poisoning
and neighborhood gatherings stopped being
kind. We swapped Air Heads and Pokemon
cards for flavored condoms and a drivers
license, only to find that everything
we threw away was worth so much more
than the high school bullies, and boys with roofies,
and the girls with tears running down into
their tissue stuffed chests. We gave
up our golden years, and to make up for it
we stuff Prozac down our throats with a
desperate belief that childhood happiness
can be found in an orange pharmacy bottle.
Hoping, I think, that someone will come along
and tell us we've done everything right,
and would we, for our reward, like our innocence returned.
Looking back, I guess we just couldn't comprehend.
We never knew that every day the pages turned
and we were slowly losing our love of fun dip
and cheap private-school valentines. We were
starting to forget the pride that came with
the title of King in foursquare, or the way
it felt to let go and jump from the highest point
of the swing. Instead we staked out cafeteria
seats and tried to figure out why having
blonde highlights, or contacts instead of glasses
suddenly made you better than everyone else.
Looking back, it all seems so sweet.
Then again, they say hindsight is 20/20.
Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 12:38 AM UTC
Looking back, we never saw this coming.
Our roller blades had a relationship
with the warm summer ground on Friday
nights when our parents would gather
over margaritas and wine; an escape hatch from
the 9 to 5 work week. We killed fireflies the
way we chew on hearts of the ones we love,
rubbing their luminescent bulbs on
the toes of our shoes so that our steps
might light up the night for just a little
bit longer and maybe, just maybe,
we could hold off on growing up.
Looking back, we all wish we could have stayed.
But bare foot soccer on concrete turned into
binge drinking, and alcohol poisoning
and neighborhood gatherings stopped being
kind. We swapped Air Heads and Pokemon
cards for flavored condoms and a drivers
license, only to find that everything
we threw away was worth so much more
than the high school bullies, and boys with roofies,
and the girls with tears running down into
their tissue stuffed chests. We gave
up our golden years, and to make up for it
we stuff Prozac down our throats with a
desperate belief that childhood happiness
can be found in an orange pharmacy bottle.
Hoping, I think, that someone will come along
and tell us we've done everything right,
and would we, for our reward, like our innocence returned.
Looking back, I guess we just couldn't comprehend.
We never knew that every day the pages turned
and we were slowly losing our love of fun dip
and cheap private-school valentines. We were
starting to forget the pride that came with
the title of King in foursquare, or the way
it felt to let go and jump from the highest point
of the swing. Instead we staked out cafeteria
seats and tried to figure out why having
blonde highlights, or contacts instead of glasses
suddenly made you better than everyone else.
Looking back, it all seems so sweet.
Then again, they say hindsight is 20/20.
Barely edited it, so still kind of rough.
EDITED
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