by some accident of blood and brain,
I’m doing what I was meant to be doing.
i spent years chasing shadows,
jobs that meant nothing,
people who forgot me
as soon as i left the room.
but i kept remembering.
names, faces,
sometimes i don’t want to
some things i do
1984
a blonde navy brat
with feathered hair and braces —
the prettiest girl in school —
smiled at me,
and it hit like lightning.
1985
I saw was this TV movie,
The Norliss Tapes —
a writer banging away on a typewriter,
beach outside the window,
seagulls screaming like deadlines.
he made it look noble.
i wanted that life.
i wondered if anyone
would ever care
what came out of my hands,
if i had the guts
to push it, sell it,
stand by it.
win or lose, bestseller or
no sale at all
doesn’t matter
i know i’ll be
the last one standing.
because while they forget,
i remember.
every slight, every laugh,
every girl who walked away,
every liar who talked big,
and vanished.
they moved on.
i stayed in the story.
i remember
