Spring does that to song birds. It really does feel like spring. We are breaking through.
I find myself giggling, ticklish (how do you spell that word? I'll never know), smiling, a blushing young girl again.
Maybe it's temporary, but show me someone ((anyone)) who is constant these days.
Sitting back, appreciating. I sat on the tree fort my dad built over a decade ago. The wood is cracked, paint chipped. The swing still works, it creaked but it carried me just fine. I swung, remembering times when I sat there without a cigarette. When I jumped off and laid in the grass, staring at the sky for twenty minutes. What happened to being invincible? I want to be a superhero again, I want to fly off those swings, 30 feet into the air like I always believed I was.
It's time. Meet me at the playground.