That place

that place

That place


where nostalgia danced
to tunes on old porches
and lullabies sweetened
our ears and hearts
gently tucked away
underneath the feathery covers
holding us until
we drifted gently to sleep.

We were carefree
free from the clutches of
stress and want
our world a shade of aqua
with no gray.

That place where nothing
was tangled
except dirty shoelaces
and how we competed
to be the first to unknot.

That place where we played
cowboys and indians
whooping shrieks of joy
and spent hours building
forts of cardboard.

That place where we ran
through fields
until the last slivers of
the sunset filtered through
tapering off the end of the world
and our only light was from
the quiet, humble lightning bugs

That place that existed
only in our quiet dreams
now blurred out
by the stench of alcohol
slowly, painfully erased by
the cocktail of drugs
until the only traces of it
slide into obscurity
in our honest blinding tears.

In memory of a childhood friend


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