I do not remember you,
sometimes I do not remember
myself.
You slipped away.
Maybe it was for the best.
I try to recall,
but my mind fogs.
My brain tilts his head
puzzled at the sight of you.
Who are you?
You, the steam on the mirror
after a hot bath.
You, a question unanswered,
one I try to decipher.
I hope to crack
the hard-headed surface of
my subconscious with a spoon.
I hope to break through,
chest full of jewels,
and remember you,
me.
Grade: 12
Washington, DC
Washington, DC
“Ambiguity over the Confederate Flag” by Frank X. Walker
To enjoy happiness
My father