The Trick of Time and Distance.

Am I myself? I am not myself,

Belonging to the night, addiction

And transcendence.

I used to remember a child

Full of energy, excitement and promise.

But I lost him in the crowd of years,

Abducted by adults without purpose.

Now I have my own child

And I try to teach her and fail

Because my way is dark,

Littered with the debris of trauma.

As she blooms, the days grow longer

And I get weaker, not stronger.

Is it a trick of time and distance

That flicks the switch

Of selective remembering?

Why do I present myself to her

As I am not now?

Why do my rose-coloured glasses

Never fog as I step from

Airconditioned sterility

Into the tropical heat of reality?

Why is my best self always behind me?

In constantly dismembering the past,

I create my own monster

In the looking glass

Who is thinner, kinder, more talented.

This is the lie I present to my offspring,

Like the Tooth Fairy or Father Christmas.

It’s what my teachers taught me.

It’s what my father would have wanted.

 

©shaun patrick green 2022