deepundergroundpoetry.com

Forgotten

Hey, howíve you been?
You donít 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 donít know what went wrong
though Iím sure it was my words that bent the bond
and left us too broken for sorryís
that could be swallowed and blessed with forgiveness

Thereís laughter in my memories
and tears in my eyes that Iím demanding wait
for closed doors before I let my heartache spill
down my face that wasnít good enough to be remembered

Letís design our own headstones and write our own eulogies
I donít 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
ďThe lightís on, but no oneís homeĒ 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
Iíve 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

Iím sorry, I donít remember you

©Indie Adams 2013
Indie
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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