Remember

I don’t remember anymore

The sliding sheets across my skin

When you mumble in your sleep

And pull away my side of the blankets in the night

I don’t remember anymore

The wafting scent of eggs

When you said you’re hungry

And spent your morning in the kitchen scrambling eggs

I don’t remember anymore

The warm roughness of your hands

When you brush across my fingers

Trying to teach me how to create magic on the piano keys

I don’t remember anymore

The soft pattering on the floor

As you tread across the room

In the morning trying not to wake me up.

I don’t remember anymore

Your soft moans of pain

When you tried to hide it from me

And I was crying outside your door trying not to let you know

I don’t remember anymore

The soft reassuring smile on your lips

As you tried to convince me you’re alright

When we both know, without any doubt, that you’re not okay

I don't remember anymore

Your soft fluttering breath

When you brushed your lips across my ears

Telling me it's okay to let you go.

I don’t remember anymore.

I don’t want to.

I don’t want to remember the twisted agony

As you fought away the invaders in your body

I don’t remember anymore

Or I keep telling myself so

‘Cause I don’t want to see you falling

Deep into that unending sleep again and again.

I don’t remember anymore

I repeat it in my sleep

As I eat, as I drink, as I cleared out the wardrobe that held your stuff

I repeat it as I breathe.

I don't remember anymore.

I don't remember you anymore.