remember

I do not remember being born
I do not remember my first birthday
or even my fifth
I do not remember the first time
I began to realize that a world existed
beyond the doors of our home
I do not remember the name of the teacher
who made sure I learned to read
I do not remember the first time I fell
when learning to ride my first bike
I do not remember when I began
to live more and more in my head
I do not remember many many things
but I hope they are tucked away
into the corners of my mind
in some dust covered box
waiting to be found.

I remember trips to the library with my dad
I remember cutting my finger horribly
in the kitchen
and blood pouring out of me
like some pint-sized soldier
I remember falling off my parents bed
and splitting my eyebrow
I remember bringing home my dog Rocky
as a puppy and how much i loved him
in the way that only a child can love
I remember my mother taking care of me
when i had the chicken pox
I remember losing a baby tooth in mexico
I remember how tall and ancient
my father's parents seemed
I remember the first girl I thought I loved
not feeling the same
I remember how disappointed I felt
when I had to start wearing glasses
I remember feeling so awkward
for so so long
I still feel that
I remember thinking my parents
didn't love me
I remember the only time I saw my father cry
and how completely helpless I felt
I remember Rocky dying
and thinking my chest was caving in
because I was hollow after all


I don't wonder about the women
who broke my heart
or the ones whose heart I broke
I don't think it makes me callous
I doubt they ever think of me


So many nights
I've tried to forget
the small tragedies
the perceived unfairness
nights spent alone
wondering if I was ok
if I could get through
the next day
just that would be enough
and every time
I did

I remember all the times I've blamed bad timing
for the shortcomings in my life
I remember when I had to stop blaming
every one
I remember looking at myself naked
in the mirror
and knowing I was the only one
in the world responsible for me

Lost Worlds

Waking is an act of forgetting
we take as normal.

What worlds do we relinquish
What lives do we forget

by gazing through the window
and embracing daylight

I often try in vain to remember
the landscapes I have seen

before they disappear into
the creeping mist   This morning

a few words snuck through
amidst the usual casualties