It’s a matter of what we remember
And when we remember it –
The dents and dings of childhood
Now distant, still have a life,
Shadows, figures we see out of
The corner of our eye.
Fearsome power we know early,
Learn somehow to get on
With less of us left over.
Inevitable, inescapable –
We weather the silence and
The complicity of friends.
After many years, I still feel it
The trap closing on me –
It was my fault for being
Too large, too awkward, always
Dressed wrong, afraid to fight,
Afraid of anger.
Embarrassing memories remain
With us – large and awkward.
I can still see his face, his fists.
I can still hear what he said and
His laughter, their laughter –
And it still frightens me.
J. K. Durick is a writing teacher at the Community College of Vermont and an online writing tutor. His recent poems have appeared in Shot Glass Journal, Black Mirror, Third Wednesday, Thrush Poetry Journal, and Leaves of Ink.
The victims of bullying can never really trust very easily. It does not "go away". Thank you for this poem.
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