Do You Remember?

Kallias Caddel

 

I was six.

There was no explanation.

There was no kiss goodbye.

As you dropped me off at that gas station with that stranger behind the counter,

I questioned where you were going,

If you were coming back.

And as she put me to work

I wondered,

What did I do wrong.

Do you remember?

 

I was eleven.

It was a school night.

You told me to just sit and do my homework for a while.

The bar stool was uncomfortable.

I fell asleep to the sounds of billiards and drunks.

While my friends spent their evenings in their warm homes,

I was at the cruel bars with you.

I was so young.

Do you remember?

 

I was seventeen.

I was curled into a ball in the corner of my room.

You were screaming at me.

I don’t know what I did.

I could smell the alcohol on your breath.

You yanked your leg back

And kicked me.

I had so many bruises,

Even some that you couldn’t see.

I still do.

Do you remember?

 

I am twenty-two.

I am broken.

I am healing.

I am what you made me.

I have so many questions.

Do you remember?

 

Because I do.

 

I remember it all.