I can't remember what movies we saw.
I can't remember which nights I lost in you.
I can't remember the shape of your jaw,
or what convinced me I loved you too.
I forgot about your birthday,
and on Valentine's, you didn't cross my mind.
it would have been a year in January,
but I forgot until almost nine.
the box in my closet has collected dust.
empty spraypaint cans starting to rust.
my bed smells like me again,
and less like us.

I think the more I forget,
and the more I live longer,
I'll search less for a duet,
and just learn to sing stronger.