Where Recess Still Lives✨
The playground still runs in my veins,
mud in my memory, wind in my name.
I left the gate… but it didn’t leave me.
Morning bell—
still splits my thoughts in half.
We stood in lines half-awake, half-dreaming,
fixing hair, fixing nothing inside us,
while the sun climbed over our childhood.
And the assembly…
a sea of sleepy faces trying to look serious,
one whisper away from breaking everything.
Even silence felt crowded there.
Whiteboard days—
marker squeaking like it had secrets,
words appearing too fast to hold,
like lessons were being born
right in front of our eyes.
Classrooms weren’t rooms.
They were moods.
Some days laughter so loud it hurt,
some days punishment silence,
some days just pages turning
like soft rain no one stopped to notice.
And the playground—God—
it never questioned us.
It just caught us.
Swings pushing us closer to the sky
than anything we understood at that time.
We weren’t “kids.”
We were whole worlds running around
without knowing they were temporary.
Pens were treasure.
Lunchboxes were peace treaties.
Friendship was: “save me a seat”
and it meant everything.
Now even the corridors feel familiar
but pretend they don’t know me.
Because the truth is—
I didn’t really leave school.
I just stopped being the girl
who thought recess would last forever
—saanvii
