I'm sorry if I forget you.
But forgetting is a side affect.
I'm okay with forgetting,
so you can be okay;
so you can be okay with forgetting me.
I'm forgetful.
So, please erase my figure and touch from your memory.
We weren't meant to be, maybe this was.
***
You tell me stories, about how I use to be happy.
You tell me that it's not my fault.
You tell me that it's supposed to happen,
and we can't get away from it.
We.
I'm perfectly causing you pain as well.
Not physically, emotionally.
You tell me it was never my fault-
But your words are like a puzzle.
And I can't put them together.
I'm sorry I don't understand you, right now.
I'm sorry, your game of scrabble makes my head ache and my eyes tired.
I'm sorry, that you're here with me, instead of out there. You're practically locked in as much as I am; don't take it personally when I tell you to leave. Please.
Since I'll leave too.
