I Don’t Remember
by jp lorence
I don’t remember all those insults.
I don’t remember all the work shifts I pretty much slept thru hoping you would get my dish machine fixed.
I don’t remember all those nights I stayed up watching cheap horror. The phone didn’t ring once, but that was probably just as well.
I don’t remember what I had for breakfast. I know I did eat.
I don’t remember who I was in love with last. I hope she was important.
I don’t remember where my blood pressure medication is. Ok, this might be an issue.
I don’t remember why I was born to suffer and die. I knew the answer to that once.
I don’t remember where I came from. It was a long time ago.
I do remember how to write in this notebook. I’ve still got that.
I Remember
By jp lorence
I remember how you looked at me in the rearview mirror.
I remember how you lied to me when I asked you if I smelled. I did.
I remember how we split our lunch money in grade school. I didn’t have enough to eat, and you needed a friend. I guess we both came out ahead.
I remember that Kiss concert we both got into by jumping the fence. We we on acid acid or what?
I remember how we both coasted into middle age, and you liked nothing more than to tell me my pants were unzipped. They were.
I remember staring you down from adjoining hospital beds. You still got the last laugh.