she didn’t remember me, no, she didn’t forget me either, instead he chose to dismember me with her mind

looked past the times of smiles and joy, the laughter, the love i once thought we shared but she so selfishly kept as she walked away

she remembered to tear it all apart in her mind, the eyes that stared back tore me into pieces and left a pile of the worst bits in my place, the small parts that didn’t add up we’re discarded, disregarded, no longer imparted, left uncharted by the ever changing currents

her recollection a collection agency sifting through the best parts in search of the bad, it was easier that way, to send in the armed goons to ransack the room with too much room once her radiance was gone from it, to flip the tables and rifle through the drawers she’d rifled through before

and when she came back, sheepishly knocking on the door, in search of a little more, now packed away in boxes marked never more, and the beams of light cast shadows in which to hide, gave time to bide, i sat inside until her storm passed

because i chose to forget, recalling only the warm moments, the good parts, and in that rememberance, in those painful dismemberments of self cast agony, when i couldn’t recall the taste of another but she saturated my tongue still, i tried to forget

and i couldn’t, i wouldn’t, a part that stayed apart of her in me said i shouldn’t, so i didn’t

and in times of need i remember how she loved to forget

even as i sat and wept

lost in the maelstrom of dust and memories of a room with too much room but not enough room to accept

my acceptance came with exceptions that were not exceptional in actuality

and my memories became a tomb deep inside a reliquary