the window seat
frames a ghost memory of mine
of baby teeth and simple things
like a shiny sticker
a honeysuckle
a red balloon
(my childhood on a string)
bursting bright apple blossoms against the sky
as i -
feeling small on the stairs -
let it go.

but now i am not letting it go
it is
from me

like memories of fading tail lights
soaking into the night on the way
and wisps of breath pressing themselves
to a car window
only hoping to be seen against the

now, i wonder
breathing hopes of redemption
on merciless window panes
(they fade so much quicker than they used to)
without anyone sitting in front of me
steering for me
or softly telling me not to lean on doors

what part of me am i losing?

what is it that i have already lost?