Peaks

Every Sunday, I'd hopscotch to the top of the hill behind your house. Not because it was fun- but because I knew you would watch me- and you watching made my head dizzy with laughter so terrific and shattering my ears would pop. You used to tell me to go pretend wherever I wanted to pretend; the world was mine- never be afraid. The day after you died, I hopscotched my way down your hill where you used to watch me, I stole the hope you had for me, and embraced it as if I would never see it again. I haven't. The world isn't mine and I'm still afraid.