My childhood is missing.

The good things come back in flashes, and the bad things in floods.

I remember the way our ice cream cones melted faster that summer. The rec center was never to far, and breathing underwater was almost second nature. Shoes were never worn, and hands never washed. Mud became a welcome accessory, and sleeping inside was cruel and unusual punishment. Grass fields were freedom, and flying didn't seem impossible.

But the air got cold, and freedom faded. I remember feeling uneasy. The leaves crunched under our feet as we walked out of view, but I didn't know any better. I remember each and every time, even if I don't want to. I remember not knowing. But I'd rather not remember, because now I know.

I force myself to think about bike rides, and road trips. I read my chicken scratch stories and pretend I was creative. But no amount of forest exploring blocks out my lost innocence.

Dear childhood, I miss you. I'm sorry you had to leave so early, it wasn't my choice. I would have let you stay, but dark questions and self hate took your place. I remember wanting to call. But I had packed my barbie flip phone away. I want you to know,

 I remember you, that all that matters.

Remembering is all there is now. I sit on my desk, and feel a little more alive. Someone brings up Power Rangers and I remember all those days after school. I smile, and remember fighting invisible villains in the back yard. But even in Paris, remembering turns into hurting.

I remember crying into my pillow.

Now I cry onto my keyboard.

I search for green grass fields. And somedays I feel a little closer.
My kite is gone, and my fairy wings don't fit..

But flying doesn't seem impossible.