Another one about growing up
In the millions of light years
that we have drifted from one another —
I still remember the summers and the autumns;
trees and old houses
with painted wooden siding.
Me Big Texas,
dirt in my teeth, grinding my dialect
to a fine drawl.
I’m tearing up after listening
to a response
to a suicide note on the internet
that I never wrote my own response,
to you, my Innocence.
I wrote about you several times,
sharing with the world, what you used to be
but when you passed away, and the world turned dark, I moved on
I just moved on.
I’m 30 years old now
and a million light years or 1500 miles makes no difference.
I still warped time and space
to make you seem more or less than you were
to fit my fake sense of
depression, addiction, and my distorted sense of obsession
for the darkness.
The darkness that was never really there.
You were never pills.
You were never alcohol.
You were never thoughts of my own death.
My innocence died and I grew up,
had false starts, recovered and continued on.
I left you in the basement, in Indiana
…and never looked back.