memory.

wish i could remember,

what it was like.

to be innocent.

to be little.

when climbing trees made you a bad girl.

and we had to be careful

to sneak in the forest

and pick those purple flowers

in the dappled pleasure of breaking the rules

withe calls of your little kiddie friends

flying through the breeze.

when all i knew was 90's music.

and cursing made me cry.

and the drama of the complex kids

was my life.

when i said i'd never do drugs

when i was a small child

ignorant, and full of promise.