I barely remember
The fuzzy silhouettes
Of family and friends
Wooden house numbers
Fixed on painted front doors
There was a curve of sidewalk
Where I rode my bike
To Brandon's house, or maybe further, to David's.
That was on Arrowhead
On the street that would be my childhood
Along with Gulliver
I remember the other side of the subdivision feeling like
Crossing state lines
From the seat of my bike
We made the trek to play
Hockey in the street
(I never wanted to skate)
Or to play in the cool, dank basements
I saw my first RTS. I heard Weird Al. I misheard the title of a Cinemax soft porno.
But I don't miss those things
Ephemera
I only miss the ones I can't recall
I miss the things I've lost
The things I'm losing right now
The things I am failing to save
The memories I am afraid to make
I fear I can't trust my future self to
Keep what matters
If any of this does
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