There's so much of my life I can remember
but there's so much I can't remember
like
I can't remember all those childhood stories
my mom tells me
and I can't remember my old private school
that well
except
the old playground with its mean eighth graders
and the bathroom toilers no one ever flushed.
I can't remember why I thought imaginary friends were
uncool
and why I wanted to kiss a boy
(or why I did).
I can't remember when my sister stopped trying to be me
and started trying NOT to be me.
I can't remember learning how to read.
I can’t remember when I stopped eating vegetables.
I can't remember my operation,
only after.
I can't remember
I can't remember a time
when there wasn't family drama.
I can't remember when I realized
I was different
in a place where everyone was the same.
I can't remember when I started to hate school,
when it transformed from a haven to a house of horrors.
I can't remember why I ever loved my ex-girlfriend
or when I knew I was bi in the first place.
I can't remember when I started to hate myself
or when I stopped hating myself
and started loving myself,
when I started thinking of how to die
and when I started to think of ways to live.
So you see,
I can't remember anything.