Back to 15

When life was rich with current. Nights were full of fantasies. Days with countless dreams. Endless possibilities seemed right up the block. School was just another place to dream my days away. Friends seemed fleeting yet sure. Guys were magnetic, girls, mysterious. Books opened up worlds i could scarcely imagine existed. Every piece of clothing i donned, every sandal i buckled a strap on, seemed to prove much more than a gathering of fabric or piece of material. As i brushed my hair at morning, each stroke brought on a new hope for the day. A tube of lip gloss meant so much more than simple sheen. A new life perhaps, breathed in through sparkling pouty lips. A bike ride around town meant a peek at possibility, a leaving of the post. A walk to the shaded wood meant secret discovery and opened panorama. Music. Music was a lifetime lived in three minutes. Music was luxury. Music was joy. The voices, the rhythm, the feel. Dancing in circles to dreams untold. Sitting on marble counter top, awaiting new life, hoping it came. Running down the hill, not because i had something to run to, but because i could. Snuggling in at night, surrounded by comforts. Falling asleep to dreams. Dreams of the day, dreams of the next, dreams of dreams, of endless dreams. Dreams of me. Of me. Of me.

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2 Responses to Back to 15

  1. Just love the way you write….

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