i don't remember your face, or the taste of your lips on a hot summer's night, your hands glued to my hips. i don't remember your smell of cheap men's cologne, or the dark of the room where you left me alone. i don't remember a thing, is what i wish i could say but i still remember you, and your dumb kissable face.
- don't mind me, i'm just ranting. (c) ayesha. h [2022]