New Details of Old People

Was your favorite color always green?

I could have sworn it was blue,

Or was that the favorite of the

few who came before you?

Details of you get mixed in with details of them,

Swirling together like a vicious typhoon,

And I’m so

so

so

frustrated

Because, frankly, my memory isn’t good to begin with

And so when I ask you what your mom’s name is

And I call her name to her face,

Just know that I practiced saying “Kelly” in the mirror

To override memories of Christie.

You tell me your dad’s name is “Eli”

And I have to recategorize it because

Elijah was my first love

and Eli scared me away.

Your pride and joy is Kaleb,

your mini you and love of your life,

And my Kaleb is an ex.

My Kaleb is an ex’s roommate.

And I want so badly to only remember a Kaleb as great as yours

And the worst part of this wet laundry load of memory

Isn’t that I can’t separate you from them,

But that I can’t remember them at all.

I get glimpses of them all.

I see Elijah and Bentley in Star Wars t-shirts

I see Kaleb and Moses in football games

I see Tyler and Alex in bowing lanes,

and Ryn and Dee show through in cosplay.

I can’t sit and recall a single person,

But when you speak to me,

sometimes it echos

Because when I’ve had so many before

They all mush together.

And THAT’S the worst part.

That I can’t remember a whole person,

and I can’t see all of you either

And all I want

is to see you

So I’m working on it

Every day I’m working on it.

But please,

When I ask you the same questions one hundred times

bear with me

I’m trying to erase old memories

And I’m trying to make room for yours.