It takes so long now to turn back the pages to the time filled with most treasured memories afraid to stop flipping back to them in case they fade afraid to tarnish their edges too much with tears and tender touches from oily fingertips Current joy is caught up and compared to the fiercest feelings of first experiences forever falling short of what I'm hoping to find can I never recapture that electric current of overwhelming raw emotion? Adolescent chemicals cannot be the only reason for the deep, searing pleasures of the past I'm unable to accept the possibility that the container of my truest happiness has already been capped off How tiresome it is to live a life through tiny sips from seasons long since passed unreasonable to hope that they won't run dry that stale taste begins to set in even now as I pull from that deep well each day I only pray that there is a rain still coming to quench this burning thirst in my soul fresh liquid delight to fill up my container something to replace those precious days that now feel like they happened to someone else
Protect the Innocent 