Games

"Count to 100," someone with a bigger mouth, and longer legs than ours said

"One, two, skip a few

Ninety-nine, one hundred," we answered

Short cuts, paper cuts, bad hair cuts

The staples of childhood

Running, always running 

Running so fast that we inevitably ate gravel, and bloodied our knees

But there are band aids for that

And there are magic kisses for this

And there is enough for everyone

And we always share anyway

So that's how we started, sweet, and resilient, and very very fast

Always playing games,

Because what else is there to do

"Count to 100," said someone who's face was wrinkled as mine is now, who has asked me 4 times already

But has forgotten that at least 3 times so far

I think back to the first time I played this game

And grip desperately onto the memories that I think are mine

I was young

Though bloody, my knees were mine

Now I do not know who they belong to

I have not known "fast" for years,

And the games I play today are grave and grey 

And you are not here to play them with me