Haunting me

The things I will never know about you
are why you loved me
and what your favorite movie is
and what you like to eat, because you always
let me choose.
I'll never know if you really loved her or if
she was just a distraction.
I know where your mother works
but not what she does
and I know nothing about your father
or your brothers or sister.
I don't know why you always made fun
of the music I love
Or what you wanted to do with your life
besides to please your parents
Or what you would have said if you had
ever met mine.
I never got to watch you stumble through
talking to my father
and helping my mother with the dishes
and never had you try to kiss me in front of the door where
we knew they were watching
I'll never know what it is like to go on out with you
at night
and not to be afraid.
And you'll never read the letters I wrote you
and I'll never know how you really felt about anything
I ever cared about
like religion or politics or feminism because we never bothered
talking about it.
All we ever seemed to do was break each other
and I'll never know why or how
or what was wrong with us.
But it haunts me sometimes.