Lingering gazes stare right past me
as if I were never there.
As if I never mattered.
Old stuffed toys sit in wicker baskets
and I'm sorry I've forgotten their names.
Perhaps that's why they've forgotten
about me too.
Times spent playing and pretending
and laughing,
they don't exist anymore.
They've be washed away
left to fade as if it had never happened.
I can't remember.
I forget.
I forget why I was happy.
And I forget how to feel happy.
Past friends and my mistakes
they haunt me.
I'm sorry that I forget their names
and the reasons we were laughing.
And I'm sorry that through my haunting
I've also forgotten what it was
that made me, me.
YOU ARE READING
Secrets of the Snow - Stories Inspired by the Seasons and You
Poetry"Tell me you'll love me through all of the seasons, through summer's scorch and the cutting winter to come." "That is unfair if I do not plan to stay." Secrets of the Snow is a collection of free verse poetry and short stories sectioned into parts i...
