The Thorn of You

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That day, you thought you would win—
but today, you bet that I will be forgotten.
And even though I am forgotten,
I still dance
in the shore of my eyes.

Even though separation weighs heavy on my mind,
I find myself resting
in your lap,
in the quiet, aching depths of your heart.

My heart breaks—
and still it beats.
The dreams I killed for you
return like thorns,
pricking me awake in every silence.

I tried to forget you—
believe me, I did.
But you echo
in the spaces between my thoughts,
like a song without sound,
a ghost that refuses to sleep.

Why can’t I forget you,
even after memory has grown old?
And why can’t I stop wanting you,
even as the fortress of desire
crumbles into dust?

You are gone—
yet you remain,
etched into the bone
of everything I am trying not to remember.


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