I remember a time,

when brown eyes met mine.

I remember a time,

that was worth more than a dime.

Times that were meaningful,

I should have known to be fearful.

These times are engraved in my mind,

and now I feel blind.

The feel of hand in mine,

a gorgeous design.

The warm embrace,

I shouldn't have left space.

The feeling of guilt,

but also rebuilt.

I hate that I feel free,

and I hate that I can finally see.

Weight lifted from my shoulders,

I am able to assemble my soldiers.

I'm learning who I am,

without being crammed.

But I remember a time,

which felt like a good crime.

I remember a time,

which felt like my prime.

But they have come and gone,

and I'm no longer a pawn.

I remember a time,

when brown eyes met mine.