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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2142632-Infinite-Circles
Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2142632
Dichotomy of Childhood Memories
Dad, pick me up like you used to.
Swinging me in infinite circles by my arms,
Laughing until the tears fly sideways across my cheeks,
Giggling so much it’s hard to breathe.
My arms released, your arms lowered for a hug.
There was so much love.

You pick me up by one arm this time.
My legs flailing, my feet searching for the ground,
Tears now streaming down
As you pick me up, the air pricks the tuft
Of hair on the back of my neck
Gasping.

Crying cut by silence, glaring whiteness
Invaded by a blur of red across my vision.
Pain throbbing as though lost in the distance,
Feeling so weak it’s hard to breathe.
My arm released, belt lowered,
Your arms folded across your chest.
There was so much unrest.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2142632-Infinite-Circles