Lost Amongst the Answers

We can't go back. That would change everything. Still we must have. Because it's all different than I remember. At least this version of me. The crab grass is darker. The rainbows come less frequently. I dream in black and white, instead of color. The mice shit less.

He was a question. In every sense of the word. Essays on insecurity proliferating at every turn of his head. Where was I? I don't know. Somewhere near enough to observe, but too far away to know.

Skin like detergent washing away the dirt. Touch like bleach. Devouring the colors of moment. People like chewing gum bursting between my teeth. Sticky faces and dead cells trying to manage a lifetime of experiences. Hollow conversations pouring like liquid plastic into molds that would make them fit only after they had happened.

Perhaps it always was. Or maybe it will never be. I can't know that until I find my way back to before we were.

If I could travel time. If I may ever have. No one knows. Until it happens. And then they forget by the time it does.

If I could go back. Stop this life before it gets to where we are now. If I could go back, why would I. If I'd been successsful there'd be no reason. Nothing to go back and fix.

Nothing changes. Or can be changed. Nothing except what we want from it.