I do not live in the past, but I travel there often.
Its a place rich in history,
a monument in ruins. Except I did not keep the map, because I do not plan on renovating it. I don’t understand how sometimes we forget so easy. Do you remember what you were before life touched you? Do you remember the first time you fell for something? Without knowing just how toxic things become over time if we do not take care of them. Do you recall the first time somebody lay their body over yours, did you consent to it? were they careful? did they hurt you?. I must have been about 18,
The first time someone clasped my face in their two hands like I was a dream, finally manifested into the human form. I remember feeling like I was falling and for once I did not fear the floor. Before all my friends became statistics. Before I had to watch them all get knocked up, over and over again. We were girls with big dreams. I still hope we are, diaper bags and all. So many things are and used to be foreign to me. The first time I saw kids smuggle marihuana I was about 16. I remember how they told me to hush with their eyes.
The people in my present smoke like they mean business. Roll blunts as good as most Latinas hip roll, and I’m not attracted. I’ve walked hand in hand with tons of bad things, I’ve slept beside it and had it inside of me. but you know, I am okay. I am super okay. I did not forget, I will never forget. The past is engraved inside. Left so much behind, including goals and stretch marks and hope, and faith, and hope. The past is not a bad place, now that I understand it better, I can visit without temptation