STOLEN IN TIME

Last week,
I saw someone who remembered me...
we started to talk,
and I realized she remembed me...
before him..
before his hands...
before even my hair hurt...

She remembered a me,
who could not lie,
who did not know how...
who's eyes were a window--
Not blinds...

She remembered me,
Before virginity was a question..

She remembered me,
before I was stolen in time.
I wish she knew me Now
Maybe she could tell me who I used to be...

I want to remember me...
"Me" before him...
before it...
I want to remember how that felt...

Yesterday I saw a movie...
two friends...
planning a wedding...
a friendship marred by--
time...
distance...and circumstance...

Weddings---Stress---And life...
the things that bring out our best...
And our worst...
angry words...
Maybe they have been building for a lifetime...
or maybe a friendship can only survive so much...

And watching this movie...
I started to cry...
Not for the characters---
But for me...

For the friendship...
that did not always survive...
For the damage...
For what was stolen in time...

And I realized...
"Me" doesn't mean what it used to...
"Me" doesn't feel like it used to...
"Me" is just another thing,
Stolen in time...

March 2002