the phenomenon of memory
is truly a mysterious one;
you can know someone so deeply
even after years
without contact.
it's not that you miss them;
you moved on, ages ago
the feeling of being able to look at them
when they returned your things
and feel nothing
was so freeing that
you felt like a kite
adrift in the wind
on a bright, sunny day.
you definitely don't miss how they left you
although you felt bad regardless afterward
the "not your fault" being completely true
yet you didn't believe a word of it
even though you may not know their address anymore
even though you forgot their phone number the moment you deleted it
even after you deleted the pictures of you and them from your phone
you realize that they wouldn't even touch you
when the camera was pointed toward them
even though it doesn't surprise you
the realization still stings
you remember everything else.
you remember how much they love art
you always liked their drawings, and now you smile
thinking about how you'd show them off to your friends
in class.
you remember how much they loved exploring,
you always went on adventures together
walking through the redwoods hand-in-hand
picking mushrooms
he'd always catch bugs he found on the ground
he always liked them, even the gross ones
you remember how he was your first love.
you remember what it felt like to be in his arms,
safe and sound.
though the memory means nothing now,
it meant everything to you then.
the thought that feeling
can seep from a memory
like sap from a tree
makes you shudder a little.
you wonder
if they remember anything about you.
do they consider texting you, finger hovering over the 'send' option
like you used to?
do they ever remember all of the things you'd tell them
or how you'd stare up at them in wonder
while they sang in their band
the sounds shaking your head like a hive filled with bees
do they remember
how you'd go out of your way to find their favorite candy;
some bizarre Japanese sweet that you could only find
at the smelly foreign market in town?
even though you may not love them any more,
you wonder
if they still at least
like you.
you wonder what they think of you.
if at all.
YOU ARE READING
the archives - a poetry portfolio
PoesiaA light buzzing distracts you from whatever you're doing. There is an old, weathered monitor on a table next to you. You could have sworn that it had just *appeared* out of thin air. Out of curiosity, you stare at it for a moment. The screen flicke...
