Sometimes I Find Myself

sitting on your floor
Boxes spilled on the hardwood
their contents being the people and sizes we once were
Before mental illness and car accidents
and growing pains
And it does hurt to grow
But look, we were so happy
And look, we had trophies
And look, we were together
The dates are never quite right
The film is bent, sticky
Were we so reckless with nostalgia?
I sit here for hours until
I run the gamut of every emotion that memory delivers.
And look, we were so hopeful.
And I didn’t notice my legs were falling asleep
Or that you were getting older.