When the World Was Still Brand New

by Angelica Williams

Image Courtesy of Mike Meyers on Unsplash

Often, I miss nap times, recess, sitting crisscross applesauce,

Southerland Head Start and going to the nurse’s office to get out of P.E,

but also, I miss the old Disney Channel, with That’s So Raven,

ballet, Razor scooters, my half-naked Bratz dolls, that toy box with the pink top. And playing outside with my cousins, Laurel Street, apartment #25

and the pool there that I nearly drowned in. Vacations in Dallas,

my pet fishes who survived Katrina, the purple Gameboy that

technically wasn’t my Gameboy, but still, I miss it.

Often, I miss my Uncle William and his limp walk, my granny

feeding me bacon strips and sausage links and then washing

it all down with a crisp can of Coca-Cola (it’s always better in a can).

And I really miss my dad, the garage apartment we shared,

his scrambled eggs, that red Mazda with no A/C or radio

and the unforgettable conversations we had in it. His

eclectic CD collection, the sound of his voice, and

the feel of his warm arms around me. Often, very often,

I miss the days when I wasn’t worried about boys,

but about The Powerpuff Girls. When I lacked

responsibilities or bills. When I was younger and

carefree and unaware of any insecurities or the damage

that true loss and pain can do to a heart. Childhood, I miss you.

I’m sorry I ever rushed you. Forgive me

for saying things like, “I can’t wait to be an adult.” I apologize

for not appreciating a good thing when I had it.

Please come and get me. Take me back to simpler times.

Back to March 1999 where it all started

and the world was still brand new.