Lingering Smell of Books

Every time I open a book the scent brings me back to days
When my hair is in a high pony and my socks are all lacy.
When no matter how I try to keep my clothes and socks clean at the end of the day they still get soiled.
When I have nothing else to think but to win a game of piko.
When I have nothing else to worry except for what I'll have for dinner.
When the thought of birthday presents thrilled me.
When I have very little vocabulary yet I don't have problems talking matters to an adult.
When my world is as easy as eating ice cream.

Flipping through every page makes me feel like I have the world on my side and nothing could possibly ruin my day. Sadly, as I near the end of each flipped book, irrelevant yet valuable things that I overlooked as I grew older resurfaced. The back cover becomes vivid and reality comes knocking along. One by one, all are becoming vague...

My hair has changed and i don't wear laces anymore.
My clothes are pressed and neat.
My mind's clogged with a lot things, including one's that shouldn't be given a thought or two.
I succumb to worrying.
Birthday present doesn't excite me anymore, sometimes I don't even look forward in celebrating my birthday. My vocabulary increased yet I find it hard to talk to my superiors and surprisingly, eating ice cream doesn't look easy as it was anymore.

Books keep me sane in this very complex path of adulthood. I love the smell of books the smell of childhood, my childhood. :)