Non specific

It is never a
memory just

the memory.

It’s never
specific until
it is.

Until all of a
sudden it’s

15 years later
and for the
first time in

that time the
entire complete
dialogue of a

poem by Sole1 can
just pop
into my head.

The poem we’d
recite
thousands
of times that I

thought was long
forgotten.

You know they
called you junkie
number one.

They said everything
was wrong with me
because I

missed you so much
at an inconvenient
time. I was a kid

and the older I get,
the younger of a kid
you were too.

I have done so
much work. So much
writing. So much rage.

So much sadness and
so many reality checks
of what we actually were

and who we would have
lived to die to
become.

I don’t do drugs.
I’ve been clean from
all drugs and alcohol

for seven years. I can’t
remember the last time
I said your name out loud.

It is never
a memory just

the memory.

Of words all put
together it’s a poem

a gift
a haunting.

It would have been
easier if you would have
just become someone
from a lifetime ago

that I

could stalk on the
internet

but
something else
chose the lessons.

I hope you are
resting

in
peace.

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