To One Who May Never Know

March 28, 2018

I remember “the good days”
I remember not noticing you
You were so happy all the time while I was so awkward
I recall not writing of death,
But rather running outside in the dirt and grass,
Outside where the crawdads made their homes in the creek,
Outside where I could feel the sun and pretend to be a mighty warrior with my PVC pipe sword
I remember those days,
The days when I hardly remembered your existence,
The days when I didn’t talk to God all that much
I remember swimming away from you as you called my name in that stupid little swimming pool
I wasn’t even thinking of you
I remember when I didn’t think so much about people I love dying,
When I didn’t have to explain myself to you in my own mind
I recall taking care of goats and kittens before school;
In the winter, I carried buckets full of water for them, and that was one of my biggest concerns
I remember not worrying about agents and publishers
In light of the fact that I need to warn my “brothers” that time is short
I recall the days when I didn’t really think too much about my friends dying twice
Now I know you, and it’s kind of strange,
Like a dream where you can hardly move your body
I remember not begging God for them to understand almost every single day
I remember not crying into my pillow so often,
Not staining the turquoise-blue with salt and water
I remember writing poetry for my mother, playing games with my father,
Singing carelessly in the shower even
I recall my dreams, my hopes, my dirty rags of aspirations, ambitions filthy with clouded sight
I remember when I didn’t want to go home as much as I do now
I wish I remembered more of you,
But now you stand up, speak, laugh
I sit, mute, mirthless
Yes, I remember “the good days,” and if they were indeed called as such,
Then these days shall be named “the days of confusion” and “the days that I do not know”
The days that I must look to God, hope, try not to think of you so much
Do I remember?
I might remember too much;
But not too much of you






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