i am forgotten memories:

smell of the milk
gone sour
in the back of the
bottom shelf of the
fridge.

sound like the muffled cries
and broken screams
drowned out by the
newest- catchy
radio 'bop'.

feel of the fingernails
and rusty scissor blades
in far left desk-drawer
on skin.

look like the purple
bags on pale skin,
clenched teeth,
red knuckles.

i do not know my name,
it is better this way.