Your name is another collection of letters
in the alphabet I learned when I was younger.
It no longer forms a specific word to me,
nothing special,
just a cluster of letters
that will be forgotten as soon
as I rest my bags at the door
and start a midday snack.
Comfort.
Because when we were young,
we weren't confined to our
memories of the
hurt,
the boy that picked on us,
the girl that had the "cooties".
By the time the day was over,
we only had our future dreams.
Your name is just another nightmare
in the past,
another thing I'll forget as I rise
in the morning.
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