i've always been on the lower end of life.
not small enough to compete with the insects,
but small enough to get lost in the tall grass.
and eventually,
when i started to get dragged through those grasses,
they turned me into a
factory boy,
errand boy,
not-so-whimsical boy.
because they took away my ability to dream and broke my reverie.
previously, my personality tasted like long-lasting gum,
the fruit-flavored kind,
and sometimes i reminisce
because that love and naivety
was what beauty felt like.
and sometimes,
when i call up my old self
i ask him
"how's it going?"
since he carried his heart in a paper bag.
because he never learned the dangers of fragility.
