I don't remember how it felt to be unaware,
to dive into emotion and action without even considering my own limbs.
That flying grace of abandon,
that untainted rapture of a child,
the universal understanding that the world can be fixed with a kiss.
I don't remember what it felt like to keep running,
to be blind to how I was affecting the world.
So soon did they make it clear how I didn't fit,
with broad gait I tripped over the boxes they intended for me.
Conscientious, I cowered and made myself small so I could squeeze in,
accommodating to their disapproval.
How could I have forsaken my youth so swiftly?
I cherish it in the eyes of the little one I know.
That rushing movement of joy,
I want her to keep running and leave me behind.
So that maybe, when she looks back, as I am now,
she'll grasp that moment, throw her head back, and laugh.