once upon a small person

i still smell soured bark, 

prickle his loaded veins of age, 

back then, i scalpel’d goosebumps 

into ruby waterfalls

to escape downstream.

back then, i whirl’d 

with salty waves, howling

the louder you scream, the faster you’ll go. 

it simply isn’t true –

i could never spin out of the way. 

back then, skin wasn’t a barrier 

or a wrecking ball 

or a megaphone. 

familiarity was a dark room,

a cavefish in the depths. 

i wasn’t brave

in leaving reluctantly, 

i had no senses to let in the light.