i am wide awake.

revert to 10 years old,
disengagement to everyone.
i lie reclined on my back, face up to the blinding sun.
blades of grass kiss my back in their infancy.
blonde hair reeks of summer youth.

but nostalgia is futile to me,
memories left hidden in my tongue.
it tastes of bitter sweet.
those splinters still stick in my sides,
an attempt to mend them into origami shapes
marks dissonant with their structure.
sequence events in my head
with a collection of still frames.
the advent of youthful serenity.

would you pass me your face on a blank canvas
so i could paint you with blemishes?
your painted face put side to side with polaroid photos.
they don't match up.

maybe we'll all stop breathing stale air,
revel in our cerebral thoughts
but that leaves ruins untouched.