Death of innocence

I don't know how to describe this poem.

Death of Innocence

by Rose Downing

I used to like the rain.
Even just the sound of it washed my soul clean.
When I was younger, I could feel the wind with my heart.
It was blowing through me. Stirring me.
Flooding my I am.

My heart has become a smoker’s tongue, polluted by toxic time.
It spilled itself upon me, corroding my center.
Noxious maturity smoked up.
Huffing to death my heart cells

When I reminisce, I elapse into the past and feel it again.
Warm and electrifying.
Filling. Comforting.

I love these old echoes
emotional fingerprints of an illusion we call time.
As much a phantom as now, only blurrier.
As much a phantom as me, only fuller.

The rain can’t wash what isn’t there.

Author's Note

Ignore spelling.
My portfolio can be found at asadowning.com

Reviews

[Rudy Theophin]

I interpret as a significant change taking place in one life.

[H. A. M.]

Just from me , it has that spiritual significance to it.
Like what you once were before you poluted your self.

I could feel the wind with my heart.
It was blowing trough me. Stirring me.
also the rain is there to was your heart when it needs washing.

Then after you poluted yourself you remeber the feelings you used to have about being clean.
This kinda has that unforgiven tone to it.sad and lamenting like.
I like where it was going remembering how things used to be.
Cool.
I do have to say check the spelling on this one because it almost ruined it for me. 'Almost.'
I know these and just echos. Saying are instead of and just sounded better to me.
Still a cool write.