To all my childhood firsts —I’m sorry.
To the tears, laughs, and words,
I can’t remember any of you.
To my first build, dash, and leap my greatest
Only to be persevered in the photos on my walls.
To my first fall, cry, and cut I know the pain was
worth all your bawls and tantrums.
Don’t blame me for forgetting your youthful naivete.
I still wish to revisit you, but not through the pictures
on the fridge.
To feel your bruised knees as you crawl—
to beautiful unknown places.
Your innocent laughs and annoying screech surely
seem like an unformed melody.
A song that came to form me.