It’s funny
It’s strange
What things you remember
And what you don’t

If you asked me what I said to my aunt
When my grandfather died
That had upset her so much
Four years ago, I wouldn’t know what to tell you

But I’d know I felt guilty
It was probably something
About how we all knew she was playing it up
For attention

Which she was, but I still shouldn’t have said
What I did

If you asked me for a specific memory
From when I was four

I’d tell you about how
A dog bite me
And I had to get 13 stitches
And how my mom bought me soda after
Which was such a treat
Because I did such a good job sitting still
So they could sew up the wound

I’d even tell you that I bit first,
Because my grandfather thought
I’d understand his sarcasm
When he asked
“What do dogs taste like?”

(Hint: I didn’t understand,
Not at all)

It’s funny how
I can remember the time when I was 6
And I believed full heartedly in demons
And my mom came home late
So I momentarily believed
A demon had replaced her
(Thankfully, I quickly got over that delusion)

It’s funny how
I can remember making my cousin cry
When I was 14
And she was 7
By locking her in the bathroom
With the lights off
As I shouted
“****** Mary, ****** Mary, ****** Mary!”
Just to freak her out

But I can’t remember why I did
The things I have
I just remember the guilt

The guilt when I finally realized I could have
Seriously hurt the dog
And that she had been abused previously

The guilt of accusing my aunt

The waves of guilt
Crashing against me
When my cousin started sobbing

The relief of never telling mom
That I once thought a demon had
Replaced her

It seems
All I can remember about life
Are my regrets