take me back to the night we met

where there were no promises to be kept
no nights unslept

where there was still time for expectations to be reset

take me back to the ambiguity of being/breathing

just before confessing all that I was feeling

when I just thought how much I was ready to give

staring at so many of my scars in need of healing

take me back to the numbness of living 

without leaving

the cage inside my mind

where I don’t have to be kind

where there are no dreams to conquer

and I pretend to be my own anchor

take me back to when I spoke my first words

so I can unlearn this kaleidoscopic speech

that I express again and again, like flying hummingbirds,

that irrevocably impeach

my willingness in believing

that with time, there will be something worth grieving

take me back to when my body was still forming

so my nerves can unravel into something 

other than this cocktail of feelings storming

in and out of focus

always searching

for my one and only

flower of lotus.