Childhood was

treasure hunting.

soft laughter of conversations in the dark peeking through the covers

The gravel fast below our feet

the wind telling us our speed

Cones melting fast under the brave sun

At night, the moon had a soft voice, told its story dressed in her field of galaxies, sitting comfortably in the clouds

Lulling us to sleep

Growing up

was carrying the corpse of my innocence through the battlefield

And trying to remember its face as I walked away

The place hazed of gunpowder, which helped our eyes forget about the stars

Everyone in hard shell armor

Where dreams sank with the ships in hopes of getting back home

This was where we learned to rob each other empty

Walking past the cold ground beggars in normalcy

Blood tasted like sugar

and many were thirsty

Love was

Raising both arms for surrender

Removing the weight of my weapons off my shoulders

The unfamiliar lack of gravity almost lifted my feet off the dust

Peeling off my hard armor to revive. the feeling of my skin

Seeing a real face, for the first time in many years

Death was

Feeling the bullet eat through my flesh in the absence of my armor

My fingers slowly numbing away from the hand of my lover

The clouds giving way for my eyes to peek the stars again

My spirit peeling away from the heavy reality like a magnet’s pull

And finally, finding the treasure.

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