forgetful me.
i had forgotten.
forgotten that there was something in his lips. the longer i kissed him, the stronger the desire became. to find it.
find that secret he was hiding.
find the source of his power.
his confidence.
his tears.
so i could rip them out. rip out the *******.
anything that causes him pain.

i had forgotten the stars lining the outside of his lips.
forgot how each time i kissed him, they would rub off and seep into my spongey skin.
forgot how the sky would dim just to hear him speak.
the stars would rise just to light a stage for him.

a platform for him to kiss poems in my ear.


forgetful me.
i had forgotten the dirt under his nails left charcoal marks on my chest.
marks for everyone to see.
***** bodies that lit me up.
brighter than blonde.
forgotten about that scar. and this one.
and the lovely things he whispered between heavy breaths.
hands on either side of my hips.//either side of my *******.
yelling at me with his tears to let go of the apple cores and checkered floors.

the same struggle.


i had forgotten about his laugh. and the way he said my name.
the silliness of 4 am on new year’s eve.
or i guess new year’s day.

forgetful me. who suddenly remembered.