You see post after post
about how only people from
[insert decade here] remember these things,
but you must remember,
You cannot go back.
Those tv shows, movies,
Books, toys, all remain the same.
On a store shelf, or a library,
But you don’t dare touch them.
You remember,
You cannot go back.
To friendships, to moments preserved
In bright sunshine and screaming kids.
To relationships, of which you both knew
It wouldn’t last two weeks.
To sleepovers and text messages,
Gossiping about who-knows-what
and who-loves-who.
But regardless,
You cannot go back.
But dear god,
Why would you want to?
You don’t seem to remember
lashing out with claws of unprocessed grief
At anyone who dared to ask,
‘Are you okay?’
You don’t seem to remember
Friends going through a revolving door
And how each time they did
You felt more and more alone.
You don’t seem to remember
How much unfiltered trauma
ran through your veins.
You’re so much smarter, happier,
Fuller than ever before.
Why go back to living in fear and sadness
When you can live now in the open,
With new friends and more confidence.
You cannot go back,
But you don’t want to anyways.