remember back to when i was 13
how the only thing i wrote about
was that childish unrequited love.
the same metaphor
again & again.
i'm grown now,
several years older
still trying to make my parents proud.
mom, i don't think i remember how to love anymore.
i miss calling your eyes the sea
& knowing what everyone means
when they talk about their fluttery heartbeat.
& when people talk to me
i don't think they miss it,
the change in how i spoke.