the games we forget

it’s a strange thing to see people grow up

when once, you traced their silhouettes

even without a trace of light, behind huge oak trees, in infinite games of hide and seek.

i am the only one left hiding; i still seek the shadow of runaway laughter, lurking beneath every grown-up snigger at the mention of love.

we used to clamour at the thought of going

outside, running through grass blades, yelling

at each other as we cannonballed

into icy white waters.

it seems everyone has reached home base.

my silhouette grows, untraceable, still clinging onto the shards of a forgotten game.

it’s a strange thing to see people grow up.