Its a muscle memory of a different kind. Remembering the you that once loved, laughed and jumped for adventure. Finding the signals that trigger a feeling. Remember a dance that once knew how to move. I want me the one that cherished the days and was brave. She just fell down so many times that she let the scars blue.
I locked her away and now I want to let her out. The problem is I have forgotten where I left the key. So here I climb the walls to let that hair down. Scrapping away dust where touch fell along. The sounds of her hips move as the drum shifts the mood.
Her hands used to fly in the air as she bounced around with teenage zeal. Shaking out the let downs and coasting a summer night where suckles honey the dew. Then that excitement grew to a squeal that shouted, ‘lets go’. Wandering the night and running through the rain. She is here somewhere, just have to keep diving up and out.