Puddles

Swishing my wrapped feet along the pools filling up every pothole around me,

I breathe.

I am alive.

Alive thinking about being alive.

Thinking about life.

What is life?

The meaning of it all…

What is life?

And as I stomp some more,

Persistent curiosity dripping down my spine-

Curling into balls of sweat,

I figure it out.

But-

No.

No way I figured it out…

But yes; I believe I did

This spunky, rich moment is so powerful until

Until I feel my childhood,

My sticky childhood along with all of my pointless bits of knowledge,

Everything I have and I own,

All stacked up tidely into one rosy-cheeked suitcase,

Being ripped out of my chest from my bare, still breathing lungs.

Because now…

Now I no longer am a child

Or a thinker

Or human.

Curiosity glides and gushes out of my pores

Until it’s all out.

Merging into the same puddles I splashed in in my youth

Like sizzling butter into steamy chocolate chip pancakes, I had once gulfed down.

Because life isn’t supposed to understand itself

And I… have just made the biggest mistake.

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