i remember

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


the result of a writing exercise, originally from january 2017.

Submitted: March 05, 2018

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Submitted: March 05, 2018

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I remember the cold of that night, and how pink the sky was.

 

I remember not understanding why.

 

I remember the azure waters and white sand and leaning trees and I want to return to the security of those days.

 

I remember when they told us we weren’t going any more.

 

I remember sitting at the kitchen table in the alcove by the sliding glass doors where the cacti lived in little pots on the floor. They sat on a plastic lunch tray like you might find in a mall cafeteria. I don’t know where we got that.

 

I remember hearing his music and feeling an indescribable nostalgia for a time that never was.

 

I remember following the stream from the bus stop up through the woods to where it emerged from a large metal tube that diverted it under the road. Snow was ankle-deep and the winter was long and cold, but green things grew here as if untouched.

 

I remember the first time I went inside an empty house. Its red-tiled roof was mossy and faded, and many of the windows were broken. There was still an empty jar of something in the fridge and paintings hung on the walls of the living room with its bay window smashed open. Vines overflowed onto the plaster-dusted carpet.

 

I remember that brown house by the river with white shutters like paper snowflakes and tiny window boxes bursting with flowers. I remember we tried to find it again. It remains unfound.

 

I remember the time in fourth grade that I stole a piece of gum out of someone’s cubby. I still feel bad. I wonder if they saw.

 

I remember the hole in the tree that I filled with acorns before the bus to kindergarten.

 

I remember wondering what was wrong with them, what was wrong with me.

 

I remember finding comfort in the smell of old books.

 

I remember being afraid that I would have to do it and that it was just how things had to be. I remember feeling very alone.

 

I remember being mad at them for wanting it when it seemed so easy to not care.

 

I remember being frustrated at how things are and how long it would take to ever change them.

 


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