What I Don't Remember

What I Don't Remember are unnecessary beatings
I don't remember a painful childhood 
I don't even remember the isolation they say I should feel

She took my pain body and tried to dissect it
Turned it around
Shook it upside-down
And tried to make sense of its birth

Physical abuse didn't fall out
Mental abuse didn't fall out
Nor did wrong things done to Little Kids by Big People

But fear with no firm foundation did fall out
As did anger

She went further

That's all?
Surely there must be more.
Fear of?
Anger at? 

Her investigation caused me to stir
Was there?
Am I hiding?
Living in suppression?

I don't remember a father figure 
But I do remember the feeling of not having a father
I do remember the feeling of rejection 
I vividly remember the Love I tried to throw
That never landed

And that was memory enough

Maybe what I don't remember doesn't look like Sarah
or Kim
or Lisa

What I do remember feels like me
And that's a memory I would like to NOT remember anymore

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