I remember burgundy jumpers
I remember the sleeves of them
I remember the wet feel of wool in my mouth
I remember sucking pencils, taste of lead
I remember when tall people gave me badges, they said FUCK ESSO
I remember how the oven door never closed
I remember lighting the back with a long match
I remember the feel of it striking
I remember sunrise from bus stops
I remember it all morning
I remember they supposedly fucked on the green
I remember the security cameras, all six of them
I remember bottles of cider the size of a baby
I remember being cold
I remember being so cold I thought I was dying
I remember being this cold every day for a year
I remember when the bottle smashed in front of me
I remember wearing everyone’s clothes
I remember when he fit his fingers around my thigh, at the highest part, and they touched
I remember the colour of sunsets and ocean spray
I remember cranberry juice
I remember that song
I remember listening to the sound of a tape click over and over, softly
I remember using too many purples
I remember being told about liking petrol
I remember the first cigarette, menthols by the sea
I remember when someone said poppers were moreish
I remember how she did her makeup, turquoise glitter gelling almond eyes
I remember shoplifting bourbon
I remember endless packets of gum
I remember an abstract notion of madness
I remember the expense of American candy
I remember the headless cyclist my brother saw, but I wasn’t there
I remember a series of accidents
I remember the muscles in my legs were so weak I could hardly walk
I remember illustrious textbooks
I remember falling over in the deli, very subtly
I remember when he pushed me over
I remember black coffee
I remember safe foods
I remember being sick
I remember eating three pieces of cake
I remember throwing away
I remember the chord progression to the song called ‘Angels’
I remember the virgin who wanted to know
I remember telling her
I remember being in class and infinite and nothing
I remember the feeling of three tongues in one mouth
I remember pissing against trees
I remember pieces of crisps stamped into carpets
I remember the invisible bugs on her palms
I remember selling bracelets of luminous, plastic materials
I remember light-up trainers
I remember hot soup
I remember vodka for lunch on a Wednesday
I remember they knew my name on the bus
I remember coming online and seeing you
I remember this
I remember holding them
I remember being told I’d fail
I remember failing
I remember failing to fail
I remember taking the train alone
I remember glossy pages
I remember wanting to be warm enough to bare my limbs
I remember nothing but
I remember the river was all that I was
I remember walking my dog the morning she died
I remember a rainbow
I remember the bruises
I remember the bruises all over my breasts
I remember biting my arm not to cry
I remember weeping all winter
I remember the welt
I remember he bit the inside of my thigh
I remember feeling dumb
I remember the empty train
I remember being illegible
I remember losing my grammar, my handbag
I remember that winter it snowed forever
I remember counting tips
I remember we said sorry to each other
I remember it happened again
I remember holding your hand so hard
I remember it not being you
I remember fireworks from the library
I remember that friend’s apartment
I remember hot water and lemon
I remember backcombing my hair
I remember messaging you the morning he touched me
I remember not wanting
I remember stupid bowls of muesli
I remember the smell of linseed oil, white spirit
I remember being thinned, and thinning
I remember the lyric
I remember the clarity
I remember yesterday
I remember the time you drove all night
I remember the dream where my hair was three times longer
I remember we made it to the beach
I remember being told my kissing was good
I remember gold stars
I remember so many stars
I remember gasping
I remember being so thin the air passed through me
I remember that too, the wind
I remember thinking that girl took crack
I remember the word capsule take shape in my mouth
I remember asking for it
I remember not having asked for it
I remember getting it anyway
I remember being turned over
I remember the river inside me as
I remember that picture where I stood in the river
I remember wanting everyone inside me, I was so hungry
I remember a dress code
I remember the unreal election
I remember the absence of insects
I remember the first time, you said
I remember we should have done this sooner
I remember the hot bright sense
I remember falling out of the hour
I remember the view
I remember he didn’t come
I remember coming home
I remember not wanting to
I remember the burning look in her eyes
I remember being sorry for something I hadn’t done
I remember dropping it boiling on my arm
I remember stripping off in the kitchen
I remember the phone call
I remember the gentle white lie I carried around all year
I remember a series of elaborate bandages
I remember more than a friend
I remember avocado emoji
I remember I knew it all
I remember telling them
I remember this one cool trick for making it pop
I remember your irises amethysts
I remember my blood
I remember the word ember
I remember saying a sunbeam
I remember red velvet
I remember you well in the Ibis Hotel
I remember the size of a blouse
I remember she said, it’s worse over there
I remember a hip flask of whisky
I remember a docile reply
I remember falling asleep with the bass underneath us
I remember Arran
I remember Luss
I remember wearing skintight jeans
I remember graduating into the falling leaves
I remember falling up stairs
I remember the clots
I remember my fingers in your hair
I remember being golden
I remember doing it again
Remember I wasn’t there
*Written in response to a writing exercise during Tawnya Renelle’s workshop on Memoir and Memory.
mariaology 