when i am numb
i remember the poem
you wrote me on my birthday
i'd never felt like anyone cared enough
to write sonnets in my name
poetry from their veins
anyone but you
everyone but you
cried the night i died
sang at the service
buried memories with ashes
from the cigarettes lit
with the same fire
that used to light my soul
now i lay in the dark
and i listen to wind
whisper fragments of
what i think was your name
i still remember
the day you told me
you were leaving
i didn't listen
to the name you called me
only the way you spoke it
like the only way
to get rid of me
was to spit poison
into my mouth
yet somehow
the burn in my throat was better
than the one you left in my chest
it was like coughing up dirt
from the seeds you planted
but forgot to water
forgot to think about
do you think about me
when you're alone
when you can't sleep
when you listen to
your favorite song
i often wonder
if i was one of your vinyls
did you spin me until
the scratches and pops
were too much to bare
until i became
another broken record
i often wonder
if you even remember
as you searched for a fire
to cover the smoke
from the last cigarette
you flicked ashes from
to burry the memory
of not my name
but the way you spoke it