It was a Sunday afternoon when I thought I had you. I thought I had you with the words you had hidden away from the palms of your hand. I thought I had you when you said that you'll always have me here. I thought I had you. But I forgot to remember the words you've said days before.

I forgot to remember that you can't save me from drowning. I forgot to remember that you will always be so near yet so far. I forgot to remember those lingering, unsaid thoughts from you; that you will always be on the shore, beaches far away from my sinking heart. I forgot to remember again. And there's this certainty that I'd still forget.

Perhaps forgetting you was always too hard for me.
No, forgetting to forget you can always just be a thing I can never do.