it took me much longer than it should have to realize that i am no longer seen as the problem child; that was something i had far passed by a while ago. it took me even more time to notice that to some people, i am innocent, looked at as if i am some sort of
angel.

if i close my eyes and think hard enough, i can almost picture myself hovering above the ground, surrounded by the glowing light of a beautiful halo.

once i do this, though, i lose my shine, and i feel extraordinarily small beneath the weight of what almost feels like a lie when i know that i am still viewed as
purity.

it’s taught me that lust can be dangerous, no matter the circumstances, especially when i can still
smell
feel
taste
an energy i never thought the universe possessed, tenting myself in blankets so i can call back strength into the lingering reminder of my memory.

i think about those things a lot, especially when i am confronted with the quickly scouring eyes of someone who still sees me as a child, captured in a dated photograph,
a mistaken innocence
in the face of my youth.

no matter who it is though, i am always brought back to my own questioning reflection. just because i’ve done a few bad things, does that really mean i’ve lost my wings?

(because if so, i think this angel fell long ago.)