I thought you left me.
Probably thinking I was
too much of a hassle.
You say you left a note,
didn’t see it.

Don’t look at me like that.
Like I’m not me,
like I’m a stranger
wearing my own skin.

You say we’ve had this conversation
three times today.
Well, I guess I just don’t remember.
But doesn’t mean i’m not trying to.

You say I left the stove on.
I say I didn’t.
We both believe we’re right,
but only one of us is losing their mind.

Sometimes I call you by the wrong name—
or ask where Mom is,
and you go quiet,
because we buried her last fall—
please forgive me..

This cruel disease doesn’t just erase memories.
It erodes trust,
ruins families,
breaks everything…