Poetry
2023
Things I Don't Want My Mom to Read
John Pollock
What does it feel like, to feel nothing at all
Stood up in the shower, but not really standing
Eyes focused on the space between entities
On the fuzz and static, as scorching water reminds me how to feel
What does it feel like, to experience another's warmth
Pausing by the driver side tire, heat pouring over leg hairs
The car engine is off, but the ignition in my head is on
Acutely aware, all of a sudden, to the thermal footprint I’ve lost
What does it feel like, to leave your mark
Words etched in paper may perhaps test time
Symbols pressed into the folds of computed code
That perhaps only I will witness
What does it feel like, to truly see
Look at someone behind streaming eyes
And know they aren’t who you thought they were
Frustration springing eternal in my wavering voice
I can’t take it back, can’t grasp at the static straws
That are these fractured memories
Somehow they manage to worm their way through the soil
No, not haunting; I don’t have the heart to label it as that
Just remembering.