remember the steep hills

when I was a child 
I used to pick the scabs
on my knees
at night
when I couldn't fall asleep

scabs I earned on bike rides
down hills so steep and long
I closed my eyes
and took my feet off the pedals

I always crashed
this was my freedom

I never went home crying
I blew on the sting
and searched for wild blueberries
 I ate them
without wiping the blood from
my hands

I didn't know then
that life would just be
this series of forgetting
who I was
then remembering 

I used to just close my eyes
and trust 
that the ride would be worth it