Remember Being Alone

Remember how we used to be, feet dangling swinging back and forth.

Remember how school days were stress free times of meet me at the slide at recess and did you pass the spelling test.

Remember how our parents told us to look both ways before we cross and when we fell in love we looked both ways, but fell anyway.

We seem to have forgot.

How the summer air was not hot like it is now and riding bikes on unpaved roads exhilarated us like an ocean cruise to a foreign island where only you and I existed.

There on the shore hidden by fronds eating saltine crackers awhile sipping koolaide from a Happy Days thermos saved from last years lunch box we talked about forever and moving far away.

we promise we’d always be together even though it was a lie.

Remember when Saturday mornings consisted of Scooby-Do and running outside to play barefoot at the park.

Swinging until her mother let her come out to play too.

Now, time is not enough and being is less than being seen and heard.

Our lifelines are articulated in grave detail with a presence of disjointed acronyms and verbs out of place.

I want to be not be known. I want to rise up in a world that says because I am not like you I do not belong.

I want to make mountains bow to the majesty of my word, the word I know, that carnal collaboration I have with me.

Remember the esoteric risk of a lie meant she wouldn’t come back.

Second chances were for bingo and kickball not you and me.

Those ostentatious  moments before he picked  you up for prom  and she tucked a stray curl as you looked hopeful into the eyes of a mother who could not believe the beauty she had held safe at her breast short years before was now embarking on independence.

I remember when we stood for a body of people like you, and me, and her, and he. Now we stands for me amid the onlookers and score keepers of a society wrapped up in the angst world of me first, and mine is best and no matter what I matter more.

Remember when there was a simpler time.

Sunday mornings laying across the bed talking on a phone that only reached from here to there.

Remember when hope was hope and not accessible by credit cards, and loans, pay it tomorrow.

Like broken hearts we string on a line in a gray area of what was yours is now mine.

I hope we can remember when for a while longer and spread it like melting butter over a generation of children oblivious to the we in a sweet and savory tomorrow.

I want to remember when voices of hatred were heard by few and laughter resonated in spaces between you and me.

Remember when being broken hearted meant words jotted on loose leaf paper.

Do you remember? Circle yes or no.

That was a time when brokenhearted meant being alone and not traded in like some overpriced car for a newer model.

Remember when love was love and commitment was a word we didn’t have to speak.

When being with you was better than being alone.

 

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