Things I Remember 1.0

Things I remember

He had a rat-tail 

He had a tree we'd climb

I learned that it hurt boys to kick 'em in the crotch and I tested the theory on him

He was next door

He was from Guam

I used to dedicate my artwork to him

His name was Michael

He moved away

I was crying in the car silently to myself, and looking out the window

As we drove the Mazda minivan through Monterey Bay

Strange behavior for a child in the second grade

My mom somehow noticed me

She asked my dad to stop the van

We sat on a public bench

I told her I missed Michael

I cried my child tears on her shoulder

Rare vulnerability 

From her

From me

I remember him as the first person I ever missed

The first time my heart broke because something

Was over.

Something I didn't understand

Or know how to handle

I feel confident and consolate

About the fact

That he surely does not remember me

Except maybe as the brute who kicked him in the crotch the first time

But I hope I never forget

The sentiments of a child

Even the silent ones 

Unprocessed