Things I Don't Want My Mom to Read

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.