Journal 6- Anaphora

I remember the worst pain was scraping my knee on the sidewalk.

I remember my heart feeling like it was in one piece, and

I remember when you used to carry me on your shoulders.

I remember thinking you would live forever.

I remember everything you seem to be forgetting, but


I want my knees scraped to hell.

I want the heart I had before it needed patches.

I want to look down on the world from your shoulders,

I want you to be immortal with me.

I want you to store everything at the top of your head.


I want what I remember.