Remember

I forgot what it feels like to open my brown eyes to a world where waking up at any given time is my choice. Rolling out of a queen size pillow top mattress that gently caresses my skin, and wait… To make it up or not to make it up. That is the question; a choice also forgotten. To trot barefoot across a freshly mopped cherry wood floor without the restriction of clothes within a cloma of my own into the bathroom. Does anyone remember how that feels? No? Me neither. To raise a French manicured hand to a light switch; what’s that? Continue to the farther wall. Shall I choose a shower whose speed and water consistency I can control, or shall I run the hottest water that will fill the depths of the porcelain tub, and lounge until the water turns cold? Choices… A bath tub… A French manicure… A light switch… I forgot how Me once felt.

I want to forget

-April Ellison