I forgot your middle name,
and no,
it may not seem important,
but every look,
every kiss,
and every hug,
is scarred into my brain,
like you carved them,
every detail,
and every love note,
I still remember,
but to forget,
your middle name,
is something much more different,
than all the small things.

he called me by my middle name
“i love you liz”
that’s what he said
“i’m so lucky to have you liz”
i’m sorry liz
i’m sorry i’ve treated you so horribly
liz, liz, liz, liz, liz
now i hate my middle name