2018 was the worst year of my life and i would never ever go back there
not even to retrieve the pretty lace bows i used to tie in my hair

i wonder if they’re in a field some place
i only have scraps of them now
tied to the ends of my cotton bag, memories lingering behind me wherever i walk
they might be torn up in a gutter
and that thought is better than seeing them sway beside my head in the wind

i want to forget the side of the road
a crashed bus, a dead friend and only a ‘aw angel’ to show
i stared at the icicles that he would never see again
fragile and disappearing, like his prescence in the air
while a hollow face stared back at me waiting for me to stop crying

i want to forget everyone who hurt me
i’ll tear up the list if it will make me feel better
the scraps of paper can form dresses for fairies
i’ll send them back in time

they’ll delicately fly around my days, removing my face
i don’t have to remember anything anymore
i don’t have to remember the dulling ache of months spent inside my bedroom
and what happened on his floor

take away my underweight body that wilted in the summer heat
torturous rays bursting through my window
fly away with me

erase the things i haven’t told a soul

i wasn’t there i wasn’t there
i was never there