A high laughter fading into chirping birds
Tiny footprints in the sand, the child long gone
The swing slowly comes to rest
It won't be used again today
An electric buzzing over the fields
Purple clouds gathering far away
The wind chime is dangling in the silent air
No rain will fall today
A ringing bell echoes down the street
But there's no use in hasting to the door
Or counting your cents once more
As today, there won't be an ice cream truck
You can go back to the place
But today, weeds grow in the sand where you once played
The house has changed owners now
And ice cream is only sold in the store
The village grew up into a town
Like you grew up into an adult
When you were asked what you wanted to be one day
This wasn't what you had in mind
Life isn't bad
Maybe it even has improved
But it's different, things have changed
Where did all the magic go?
☆
I wrote this back in May, but struggled with finding a title, so I'm only posting it now, in August.
I don't feel like giving a big life update, so I'll leave it at this. I don't even know if anyone reads all this (but if you do: I hope you have a great day!).
YOU ARE READING
It does get better.
PoetryPeople say it will get better. But to be fair, most of them never were in your place. They say you will get happy again, but how can they know? I've struggled with trauma, mental illnesses, and self harm for many years. These are (mostly) poems - ab...
