People can’t remember pain –
No one should be able to fully relive
the lively weakening of a jagged knife ripping through virgin skin.
If that’s true,
then why do I constantly remember how your goodbye made
blackness crawl up my soul,
leaving through my eyes in salty rivulets?

I remember pain in every daydream,
wishing for your return.
I remember pain in the gentle chords birthed by the piano,
the same melody you used to play.
I remember pain when I’m at school,
when the dirty cracks in the linoleum floor bleed out your name,
reminding me of what I’m missing.

Most of all,
I remember pain when it’s dark,
and I’m alone,
and the only sign that you kept me alive is the heavy beat of my heart.