Remembering what I want to forget. Unable to recall what I need to remember. When did it start? Refusing to ask you because the revelation would make it real. More than it already is. Other pains kept occupying space. It had to wait. Writing it would make it real, trying to forget it becomes harder, there's a record. Is this the root of fear? Afraid of being in a fort not alone but sola. Talks or hints of it. Can't remember, time has a tendency to distort the memories. The motorbikes go by, loud, exhaust, music and maybe plans of it, it's hard to recall. Locked away, innocence dissappearing by the second, or maybe it vanished before that day. When did it start? It's difficult to know. It happened, it didn't feel forced, felt mutual but willingness at five does not seem plausible. Was it that young? Remembering that, it's complicated, you could answer it but forgetfulness gets in the way of asking you, or remembering to ask you slips by. Hard to tell the difference. There was a school day once. Morning it was, the shoes were being tied, memory says that no one else did the tying. Can shoes be tied at five? Can't recall. But being forced to grow up has a way of challenging stages. You said independence was a quality that was shown at five. Where did it go? You asked. It hasn't really, it just shows itself differently. After the shoes were tied, at five there's rejection. Knowledge of wrong and right. Was it really that young? Hard to believe it could be. After that there's no more recollection. Was it before innocence started to die or after? I can't recall and I'm not sure I really want to.

You who goes by "Lonely"
Yes you, who reads these rhymes
Please pause here for a moment
I won't take much of your time

You see my friend, I'm lonely too
In the dark with paper and pen
So I'm writing you this poem
and signing it "Your Friend"

Though I'll prob'ly never see you
nor ever know your name
I do not need to see your face
nor know your cash and fame

I do not care what color you are
how short or tall or fat
I'm weary of all these parties and creeds
So, for a moment, forget all of that

Yes you, dear friend, forget with me
Inhale this moment serene
where we are not opinions or castes
Just two humans with two glowing screens

Be human with me, simple and pure
For a moment breathe deep and feel free
then should you have the time, and a halfway good rhyme
Perhaps write a poem for me.

Signed,
Your Friend

Sometimes I think I'm in a nightmare
And I'll wake up next to you
And all of this will be over

But you're never in my bed when I wake
Only sleeping in my mind
Tucked away behind where regret and jealousy collide
Melancholy blankets cover your soft skin
Tender cheeks kissed by my disappointment
My depression plays with your hair
And anxiety massages your back

And when you do wake
You exit my eyes as tears
But somehow
You always find your way back to your bed

the memory of
the blue in her eyes made
drowning in a dark blue
ocean an experience worth
living for

Do you think
There's
a reason
As to why the Sky
And
The Ocean
The two biggest things
In existence
Are Blue?
Maybe it's to remind us
That Blue
Isn't
Just a word we use
When we're feeling
Small.

-G.E.T

All words once used
to describe the eyes the color blue
tied together, tried and true
are still nowhere near good enough for you