Nostalgia's a B*tch.

Heart racing fast. I wish I could tell you how much I miss those days...

how much I miss you.

Lately I've been sick. The doctors can't diagnose it.

But I think it's nostalgia. Insomnia. Schizophrenia.

I'm suffocating, drowning in these memories. And I want so many of them to be real.

All of them.

Most of them.

Some of them.

None of them.

You looked at me with those green eyes, and then she was gone.

And now I'm 10 and I don't even know what love is.

I thought I was in love with Aaron Carter cause he wanted candy.

And I thought I was candy. And I thought that was love.

You looked at me with those green eyes, and then dad was gone.

And now I'm 7 and I accidentally walked in on my mother crying.

So I walked out.

Papers in a purse and Dora on the TV screen. And swiper keeps stealing my things

and scraping my knees.

Thank God daddy's back. I need a band-aid.

You looked at me with those green eyes, and now you're gone.

And I'm 75 still looking for some crayons, but mom doesn't keep them in the house anymore.

Digital paints, and markers on a glass screen,

and that was my little sister's childhood

and I'm sorry for her.

I couldn't ever bring myself to color inside the lines

but she's a straight arrow. 

So much potential to make beautiful things and a glass screen consumes her thoughts.

I'm pedaling away on a bike I never ride anymore and

drowning in a kiddie pool that has a hole in it.

I'm coloring on the walls with markers that are dried out and

eating cherries with a grandpa who's in heaven.

I'm laying in the sun getting skin cancer 

and I don't even care.

Daveni.