It’s hot and my feet are old. It used to be that I had time to make myself into a girl, but now it’s all I can do to make myself get up. All I want right now is to put down this laundry and this sad life and put on lip gloss that smells like fruity bubblegum. I want to walk down the street and get whistled at. I want to climb trees. I want to skip school and meet you in the Chinese gardens again. I want to hop trains like we used to and end up somewhere new.
I want to make sangria and drink it around a bonfire with everyone happy under the trellis that I helped build so many years ago.
I want to swim naked in the creeks again in the moonlight and pretend it will always be like this. I want to jump off the rock by the waterfall and into the water and go under and this time maybe never emerge from the cool, sweet darkness of being young.
