Don't you remember,
That my name is Amber
The girl's whose eyes are full of ember
You said I had the most beautiful eyes

Do you remember, infront of you I was shy
You said you hated it when I cry
Yet you wiped my eyes with your lies

Do you rememeber, how you spoilt me with love
When you id without me you can't live
How comes now I'm not in your life and you're alive
So you lied to me when we lied on your bed
You are the bad omen that makes me believe that all  are bad men

Do you remember,you used to be;
My shoulder to lean on
My ride or die off and on
My lover,my best friend
My oxygen
Now I can't survive
Do  you!!!?

Do you remember,
When you used to call me beautiful names
When we used to play little cute exiting love games
You tickle me and I'd laugh like crazy
Feeling a little bit hazy
Or my love for you was too heavy
You wanted royalty a real queen
But loyalty was all I could give to you my king
How many times did I bow to you
I didn't now you would get bored with me
Simply because I'm a plain Jane

Do you remember,
Late at night when we had a fight
You'd give me advices
About people's vices
You were once my inspiration
Now you are my desparation

Please remember,
My love if not my laugh
My walking grace not my silky lace
My jaded eyes not my faded skies
Please remember that you kept me before you chose and left me

Just remember,
I am Amber
And I am still somber
Because of your unrequited love
That filled my equitted half

Lucid dreams
are my only bridge
to those an insurmountable
distance away.

There is no ship
that can breech
the barrier of time.
There is no ticket
destined for yesterday.

To those of my past,
if only I could impart
a fraction of
the tenderness
that swells from my heart.
I remember you all
with a special fondness,
one that can only be
forged by
lingering regret.

The moment in passing
and the
moment incoming,
smudges into the other.
Time blends effortlessly with itself;
hours melt into one another,
days are indistinguishable,
but the difference between
the past and present
is as evident
as a knife in the gut.

One must wonder
if pain
is the burden of memory,
that to preserve the past,
one must pay dearly at the present.

I don't remember the first time I met you.
Only old ripped up pictures
that I may or may not be in
'cause babies all look alike after a while.

I remember the second time I met you.
Your old apartment dulled by
a haze of cigarette smoke
and your nose shone red and fat like a clown's.

I remember the third time I met you.
You sat adorned with flowers
as a man stood and sang your praises
and a woman walked plainly behind the procession.

What is this feeling that seems so foreign yet familiar?
As we head our own ways
down our own paths
maybe we will think to look back
but until then  
Let’s walk back to the fork in the road
and reminisce over everything we’ve seen,
over and over,


until we meet again.

I will be forgotten
and I am waiting for it.
At first, you realized it
or in the last, you knew about it.
The time that brought you to grow
always explained to you that the suffering seems like the voices you can’t hold.
I will be forgotten
and you knew that I am waiting for it.
You tried to tell me about it.
But at first, I decided to be calm in every moment I can do.
The wind that blows.
The sun that always let me glows.
It will be remembered.
but I will still be forgotten.
The story that told you in every book you love just leave me memories.
That’s a gift so I had to keep them as I had many glories.
I will be forgotten.
All I wish I could do is only tell you
so it will be remembered.

The fabric usually feels the same
a cloth that remains soft
similar to everyday
until, perhaps, a stain
a rip, a tear

I would love to wear the world
as was before all this
but perhaps my prior idiocy
is why we remember

Memory in tension
with expectation

Which wins?
Which informs?

And why do we settle
for either?