Love and Other Fuckups

My Curse

I was always good at remembering the little things.

Like what my favorite shirt was when I was five,

Or something that my grandpa said when I was eight.

I was always good at remembering things,

That normal people wouldn't.

And my mother once told me

That it was a special kind of gift.

But now its four years later

And the things you said to me on that first night,

Still haunt my very being.

And the things you said when you left

Still keep me up at night.

And I'm starting to think that maybe my gift,

Wasn't a gift at all.