Blue Spell

Roses with eyes stare me down,
Eyeballs on every petal, watch me drown,
Suffocate...
In a tired, apathy of today,
An exhausting longing for yesterday,
For the overall feelings and the feelings of wonder, of my youth, of the "back-in-the-day".
For the mystery of leaving a restaurant in the evening, and looking down the darkening strip mall,
As twilight starts to wane, wondering where it goes, and what it would be like to be there at night and all.
A longing not, for a simpler time,
But for the unique, unrestricted, free, and mysterious feelings of that time,
Of playing a point-and-click adventure game with my dad, and him taking a short break on the porch,
And going to sit with him on the porch, and looking out into the yard,
And seeing the warm light of the streetlight on our driveway corner as the moon illuminates the yard,
And wondering what it would be like to travel the world, on foot or horseback,
With nothing but my clothes, and a backpack,
Alone, on a quest
Like in those movies and games, with land exploration, and map charting conquest.