I've been going through some old things the last couple of days (pictures, journals, etc) and tonight it shook me up a bit.

Nacho

I took pictures
the last time I saw you
over ten years ago
In every one
you turned out
an eerie blur of light
and now
I've forgotten your face
I only remember
your eyebrows and hair
dark brown
your skin light
the half-Mexican boy
from Boyle Heights
that stole me
from his best friend
and left me
for San Francisco

You changed my life
and now
I wouldn't even know you
unless you were wearing
the same Jimi Hendrix tee shirt
and looked
just like a ghost

Matt

I broke your heart
the summer before Jerry Garcia died
we had both wanted
to follow the Dead
and suddenly
there was nothing
to be a part of
You went to Oregon
and stayed there
Last I heard
you were working construction
but that was almost six years ago

In all the poems I wrote
to win you back
I begged you to believe
we were soulmates
and I meant every word
but if it wasn't
for those very poems
by now
I'd have forgotten
I loved you

Dan

Before you became
just another man
that fucked me
and never called again
you were a teacher
an inspiration
a friend
that I loved
You read my awful poems
and wrote me
encouraging notes
You gave me coffee
after too much beer
You made me feel
like a person
when everyone else
made me feel
like a child
You did
such a good job of that
in fact
that I guess we both
forgot
I still was
But when we were through
there was no question
the last little girl I had
was gone

Really
I can't be sorry
I'd have lost you both
someday
one way or another
and if I had to pick someone
to give her to
I'd pick you
every time

Unknown

I'd like to forget
it ever happened
pretend that
the darkness after 17
was just me
growing up
act like I didn't stay up nights
half crazy
convinced that you were at the foot of the stairs
just waiting for me to fall asleep
It never happened
I didn't come home
to a dark hallway
groping the air in front of me
my throat full of panic
certain my hand
would find your cruel face
I don't ask myself
if you're out there
or if you've ever been sorry
I don't ask if I was a congressman's daughter
would they have caught you then
ask if I was being punished
for having been free
what I did to deserve it
why it was me

I'd like to pretend
I never thought these things
because thinking them gives you power
because being afraid
or ashamed
gives you strength
and I don't want to give you
anything

But I can't pretend anymore
and I can't forget
that I'm different
because of what
you did to me

It happened
It changed me
and I'll never
be the same