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I wish I remembered.
Only then would I have an excuse
to not forgive.

Forgetting
is not unexperiencing.
Its being left with a lingering reminisce,
a senseless dread,
a dull ache
that you can't find the source of.

I wish I remembered
so that I can hate you
without hating myself.

Because it feels like you did so much
while doing nothing at all.

But I know you did.
I know you hurt me,
I know you hurt me.

I just can't quite
remember.
I have really bad memory and it makes me vulnerable to being hurt repeatedly by toxic people because I don't remember what they did wrong. It still hurts, though.
?
I’m not quite sure
What I’m doing here

What does it matter?
Why do I matter?

How is this the river mouth of my tears?
Are these the consequences of my actions?

What would it be like if things were different?
Why couldn’t things be different?

What does it matter?
Why do I matter?

Do I matter?
Why?

I’m not complaining, really
Just questioning.
Being able to stand at the bedside
Of that woman who
hurt
            hurt
                        hurt
you at your most vulnerable

And kiss her cheek while she is
hurt
            hurt
                        hurt
and at her most vulnerable

Is incredibly commendable.
 Apr 10 Thirty Nine
Kate
You can’t eat money.
Not when every river has dried up. Not when every tree has burned, its ashes coating the sky—when our children think it’s snow.
Not when the world is too hot to inhabit. When our scarred bodies bear the marks of explosions nearby.
You can’t eat money.
Not when our teeth have fallen from the radiation.
Not when our fingers are gone, our brains decimated—our regret the only thought we have left:
How did we let this happen?
not when it’s all that is left.
I'm sorry I let go.
I know I promised, its just

We were the wild children,
Never where the adults needed us to be,
For the world was our playground.

We were one,
Joint at the hip.
I thought that we would never get lost as long as we stayed together.
But as the illusion of childhood dissolved, so did you.

You used to look up to face the adventures of the day,
But eventually your head grew heavy with the foreign disease
And you could only stare down at your shoes,
And then you couldn't even lift it off your pillow.

I didn't understand why you no longer wanted to explore.
You told me you were tired.
But how, if you were always in bed?
I was told that you were sick.
But I thought fevers and colds left with rest and time?

I waited for you,
Sat at your bedside,
Missed out on my own adventures with the hope of more with you once you got better.

But you never got better.

I know that I told you,
Promised that I would follow you to the ends of the Earth.
But as your heart hardened and your mind wandered,
I no longer could find you inside yourself,
And there was no one left to follow.

Thats why I let go.
You were sinking, drowning,
And I couldn't too lose myself in your Mariana Trench.
Oooh… Phew!

One and 1 are indeed different
from each other, right?

One is a word, and the other is a number.

Yet, when I am not visible, no one sees that I exist separately.
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