I am the worst kind of forgetful.

I want to remember how to know you,

I want to remember all your syllables

and string them together like fairy lights at sunset,

I want to remember what you need me to forget.


I have the worst kind of smile.

You can draw it out too easily.

I try not to smile in front of people who know me too well,

they might keep it like a memory.

I don’t want to build any memories,

most things I build don’t last.


I am the worst kind of armrest.

When I try to hold you I feel your balance breaking,

hands shake but I don’t want a handshake,

I want clovers and whispers and sand in our shoes,

midnights that don’t need to end.


I want to run but I have the worst kind of balance.

I try to have stronger muscles,

ones that won’t struggle when I hit the rocks,

I trip and fall too easily.


I have the worst kind of current.

When the air is silent

I don’t have the voice to fill it with sparks.

When the air is electric

I fall for your stars like lightning.


I am lucky to have this street to walk.

But I don’t like being this kind of forgetful.

I remember everything.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 5/25/17

View tallsquirrelgirl's Full Portfolio