past, present, future

I have complained in the past
many, many times
about how you were never there
when I needed you.
This morning I
recalled very distant memories
looking out of my own eyes
I wondered
how is it that we remember this
and not that
whatever that may be
and as I look out of those four year old eyes
parallel to the kitchen counter
raising up my two skinny arms
to reach the cup of water
it seems as though I am looking out of
the same exact ones
as if it’s happening
right now
or even yesterday.
I remember drawing on the walls
while my mother took a shower
I remember even thinking then
how bad and mean it was to do
and yet I still did it anyway
walking back and forth along the long
dark hallway
I used different colors to make dashes
like Emily Dickinson
over and over again…
and I wondered today
now
how could I have had those thoughts
they seemed so mature
and to say that I did not know what I was doing
is not true
and I remember my mother yelling,
“we just painted these walls!”
and did I do it for attention, I wonder?
And so, today,
as I was walking home with Victoria
I saw myself again
so many years from now
watching her tell me I was there too much
that I was around too often
and to leave her alone
making up for my mother’s absence
I pushed my own child away–
silly thoughts, I think
and brush them
all away–

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3 thoughts on “past, present, future

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