Mnemonics

I have gotten better at forgetting
I don’t remember
the color of your eyes
the sound of your voice
or how to be honest anymore

I’m getting better at forgetting
you star in my nightmares only
every other day
I think about you only
once a week
I miss you only
twice a month

I’m getting better at forgetting
but I still remember things like
seeing my mother cry for the first time
I was five
she was alone
sitting on a swing in our garden
and I saw my silhouette in her tears

I’m getting better at forgetting
I don’t remember our conversations
or the future we could have had
or the door we left open

I’m getting better at forgetting
I’ve forgotten half of the war
half of my friends
and half of the promises we made

I’ve gotten better at forgetting
I keep forgetting things I want to remember
like the color of your eyes
the sound of your voice
and how to be whole again

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