Forgotten

Hey, how’ve you been?
You don’t remember me, do you?

And it was just that easy to break my heart
trying to search her face for the friendship
that used to exist between us
not that many years ago

And I don’t know what went wrong
though I’m sure it was my words that bent the bond
and left us too broken for sorry’s
that could be swallowed and blessed with forgiveness

There’s laughter in my memories
and tears in my eyes that I’m demanding wait
for closed doors before I let my heartache spill
down my face that wasn’t good enough to be remembered

Let’s design our own headstones and write our own eulogies
I don’t remember the words that had us folding ourselves in half
our ribcages shattering with the laughter of emoic teens
who still thought death was a good idea

My own crudely made urn, inscribed with
“The light’s on, but no one’s home” with a candle holder on top
to be lit once year in my memory, provoking at the very least a smile
and proof that I have a sense of humour, no matter how dark
 
But like the urn, that was downgraded to ashtray and left in the rain
I’ve been banished from the memories, left to float away in wisps of smoke
exhaled from her mind like the bad taste cigarettes I used to inhale
blowing the smoke back out through my nose

I’m sorry, I don’t remember you

©Indie Adams 2013