DETACHED

the past

It's hard to step over the invisible line.

Dividing the past and present,

as you come face to face with your past.

But her legs propel her over the line,

till she's in the yard of her old home.

Brush her fingers against the decaying wood of a fence,

and she'll be lost in the world of memories.

The laughter of a child,

and the splattered remains of an egg on a car,

the innocence of a child,

and the harsh reality of hateful words

from those she called friends.

The inhale of a cigarette smoke and coughing

that follows,

and colorful words from the mouths of

neighbors.

The pages of words that she'll stumble over,

and accent that slowly fades away.

The stern scolding of a parent,

and their panic as she rushes in front of a car, it

barely stopping.

These memories,

moments in the past,

they formed her,

molded her as if she is clay.

But it's hard to think about the past,

so she'll move back over the line.

Till a place of love and joy,

sadness and hate,

is behind her once again.

A/N: I have no idea what I just wrote about, but it just really reflects how I feel currently.

That makes no sense, oh well.

Thank you for reading ❤️