Pd2; Izzy TP Remember Poem

I remember flying down a hill 
the way the wind stung my nostrils
and how the warmth of the sun shrunk my lungs.
I remember the way the honeysuckle tasted during breaks,
like a ghost of honey on silk. 
the scooter's touch was of all the force of a viper, as it came crashing down on young ankles. 
It was met only by a soft gasp and poorly concealed grunt of pure agony. 
I remember the way all the diffirent shades of gray of the hot, cracked pavement blended to one
how the backdrop seemed to warp and stretch as the wind tried to catch me in its arms. 
Each time I recall this memory, I think about my past homes, nostalgia and warmth creeping through my being, as I recall the icy bite of the wind and the andrenaline rushing through my pounding heart. 
Whenever I'll look back, I'll remember my many homes, and how the pinnacle of my day was to forget for just a second that I was unhappy.