Limerence

I find our memories sometimes,

Pressed into the corners of jeans pockets,

Buried like dirt and indifference,

Old napkins and notes,

With promises long forgotten.

Fading ink mixing with worn-out moments,

Writhing from the neglect,

Aching to come back,

To make the false true again.

It all blends together sometimes,

The good, the bad,

The happy, the sad,

It convinces me of what we’ve always known.

That we never really knew where we were going,

No clue where to step,

The ground, stable one second,

Turning into water the next.

I remember sunflowers,

Slightly crooked petals,

And I remember a broken vase,

Transparent blue shards on the floor.

I remember holding my breath,

The way one does right before the big drop on a rollercoaster,

And wishing I had never gotten on,

Thinking I should've known better.

Your name ignites that weightlessness,

The kind when you feel no gravity,

The one that turns your stomach inside out,

The kind filled with anxiety.

So when I find our memories sometimes,

I bury them away for good,

In dirt and false indifference,

Old napkins and notes,

Working again to forget.