I forgot it was your birthday today. But I still remember what it felt like, when you etched your initials into my mind.
Or the way it ached, as the touch of your palm made my chest shake.
Picking out pieces of me, but forgetting to put them back.
Oh, you always forgot to put them back.  
I find myself constantly muttering to myself nowadays, that I release the past I left behind.
Putting myself first and back together now that we're separated by 3,000 rhymes.
I am more than the absence of your voice.
Stitching together the parts that make me whole, but never forgetting the fire that you set to my soul.