Neglectful Amnesia

How sad we are, to walk away,
and leave our things behind—

our shoes

and toys
we used to love

—and yet, don’t seem to mind

the thoughts that slip,

(like melting snow)

our pasts that fade, and tear,

so that our childhood
cartwheels by

but we can’t see it there

We store our memories
in our brains—
through notes—in objects too—

and still it seems so long ago

I was in love with you.

We live to watch our deaths come on,
remember to forget—

I’m sure I’ll see you in my dreams

(but I’m not sleeping yet)