Burial and Reignition

Back in elementary school, our world felt invincible. The playground after class, love that made us tremble just by hearing our names, bikes that felt like they could take us anywhere.
As we grew up, learned how to avoid getting hurt, and became smarter, that hellish purity drifted further away.
BPM 65. A rhythm beating at the same pace as the heart, a requiem for the self once consumed by passion.
Four minutes from the depths of despair screaming, "I didn't forget it I killed it," until finding that faint spark still flickering deep within the chest.
A ballad dedicated to all adults who were once boys.