Forgetting

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

-Pablo Neruda

 

I want to forget you.

It would be so much easier to just forget you.

I wish there was a way to wipe you from my memory,

so when I heard a love song my immediate smile wouldn’t be followed by a dulled ache.

I could drown myself in other women.

I’ve tried,

but I compare every one of them to you and they can’t match your stare.

I’ve spilled so many words on the love I sought in your eyes.

Words of lust and passion,

of hope.

They were all returned unopened with postage due.

If forgetting means losing the memory of your heated fists in my hair and your hungry tongue in my mouth then I would trade that to lose the dead look in your eyes as you stared at me the last time we spoke.

I want to forget you because you’re never coming back,

but forgetting is like a having a dream

you can’t ask yourself to have it,

it just happens when you stop trying so hard to stay awake.

2 thoughts on “Forgetting

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