A Forgotten Life
I’ve no memories
Of innocent days
To pull at my heart
And make me wish to
Be back in their arms,
Quests into my past
Produce confusion
Return no answers
Just questions persist
Did a phase exist?
Was I born this way?
Have those years completely melted away?
Maybe behind glass
In early pictures
Where soft baby skin
Draped in white linen
Held a robin’s nest
My spirit could be
Associated
With undiluted
Light and spotlessness
Perhaps it was, but
As I gaze into
Days gone by uncertainty reflects back,
I cannot recall
If purity once
Stirred in my young chest,
If it did at all
What took it away?
My brain races through
Possibilities
Of proof that I’m wrong,
Before histories
Flood in, the ones that
Disprove any claim
Of being vestal or unoffending,
For sexual acts
And exploration
Go deep through my past
To the point where there’s
Not a precise start
Soliciting sin
Pursuing pleasure
Came naturally
Grinding casually
On blankets and jets,
One could say that I
Did not understand the implications
Of my scandalous
Actions, that it was
Innocence itself
At an age too young
To see the impure
Nature of my deeds,
Which drove me to seek
Gratification
Alone and with friends,
Then how is it then
That these truths were kept
Private, as I carried the weight of guilt
On my aging bones
Into adulthood,
In hindsight I know
The full gravity
Of my behavior
Never escaped me
When I persuaded
Companions to touch
Unexplored places,
I’ll always wonder
What they remember
From that supposedly shameless decade,
My inclination
For substance abuse
Developed quickly,
Likely genetic
Unleashed before long
Starting with my love
For fire and smoke,
Called to mind clearly
As I look back on
Testing plant matter
Around the backyard
For a potential makeshift cigarette,
Liquor's similar
Tale is further proof,
There is no tracing
All of those little
‘Sips’ at holidays,
On the night I had
A proper first drink
It did not instill
A perceptible
Change in how I viewed
The world, that teenage
Indiscretion was insignificant,
I can’t reminisce
On when I believed
In Santa Clause or
The Easter Bunny,
I wasn’t hoodwinked
By classic stories,
My mother declares
I only remained
Convinced until four,
All of that naïve
Childhood glory
Long ago trickled through the sieve of time,
Manipulation
Anger and deceit
Came instinctively,
Devious actions
Predated my speech
Before I could talk
I obeyed a prompt
From my goofy dad
To bite his old friend
On the knee in jest,
Obviously not
Objectionable to my toddler mind,
That one fits in line
With underlying
Awareness that rules
Were intended to
Be disregarded
Instigative blood
Runs deep in my veins
A constant refrain
’Stop, you’re just trying
To pick a fight, stop.’
Infuriating
Accusations with which now I agree,
Perchance since my birth
I’ve been acquainted
With the wickedness
Of human nature,
The fickle, the vain
The disloyal, all
Characters I knew
Well, nothing surprised
Nothing to pinpoint,
Even when bullies
Made me their target
Innocence was not what abandoned me,
I cannot find fault
Within this lifespan
My loving parents
Were ever-present
My luck abounds, but
I’ve no memories
Of innocent days
To scrub out my soul
For it has been ’round
Far too many times