Its sad that I can't really remember you
I remember moments that were once new
Like trips to the zoo or car rides in your BMW
But I dont remember the essence of you

I can't remember the smell to your clothes
The scent isn't picked up by my nose
No memory of the last hug we shared
Or the last time I made fun of your beard

You were a dad to me maybe not my father
But you treated me as your own daughter
How can my brain even think to forget you?
Why can't I remember our last "I love you"

I don't know what we actually said that night
The one before I woke up to the medics flight
The way they ran to your room to abruptly try
Only to give us a truth we wished was a lie