weren’t we?
When we were young?
When there wasn’t this
war waging
between head and
heart and
gut.
When it was full-bodied
doing,
full-bodied
being.
When the wisdom of the naive
was everything and
reading my journal becomes like
a letter from the future.
That girl, there,
she knew.
She knew.
That I’d forget things like
to carry around glitter wherever I went
and
why everything still hurts.