The Playground We Built

With our little feet and tiny hands we play around. 

Oh, how fluent we are in calling each other's name while hiding from and seeking each other. 

How silly it is when we shout random words in our own language to strangers on the road. I hear only your laugh and you hear only mine.

I feel like a little giant throwing punches to the pillow that you hold and at some point we would smash pillow to each other's faces. Giggling till the butterflies in our stomach flies in all direction, filling the air in the room.

You snatch my food and I snatch yours in a restaurant we just visit. We roast the odd-looking banner showing menu names and low quality images. Unappetizing.

Somewhere so far away,

I wish I met you when we were little. So the time will be ours to play around all day, everyday.

I wish we never have to grow up so we can go to waterfalls whenever we feel like splashing water to each other's back. We can dip our head-to-toe in the saltwater, letting it run in our vein. You're a giant sea turtle and I'm a little whale.

Our broken promises won't hurt as much. Maybe we don't even remember promising. 

Climb the tree over the seashore before our dinner call!

Why would we worry about the fire heating up the kitchen?

I wish I'm sure whether I have to say goodbye.

But I believe we have fallen in the playground we built.