‘Moments’ | micalawest | Poetry
Do you remember when moments held you captive?
The special thing about those moments was that they could last forever.
When your mind was pure, when your hands were still small.
I remember I used to get lost into the silken pages of my favorite books.
When the world hadn’t scathed me, I could lie out in the sun and dream forever.
Dream of all the things I would be. All the things I would do.
I loved the words on pages, swirling around in magic, leaving my tongue tingling.
Pronouncing them was the only real magic I’d ever known.
Leading to stories I’d created on my own, characters more real to me than reality.
I dream of being young, of days when everything was made of precious moments. Decades didn’t sway me, I was already living in my head eternally.
Even on a chair in gray, I was out in the sun, drinking up ink spilling out dreams.
I miss those dreams, I spend my time scratching at the surfaces.
I want to do nothing as before, nothing with the moments that were eternity.
I love watching you sipping on moments now, watching you dream akin to me.
But sometimes I feel a certain jealousy as I remember how it felt to live momentarily.