I don’t remember my past lives, or what I ate last night for dinner…

I don’t remember when you said you loved me

I don’t remember when you left

I don’t remember how much money I spent this week, or what it would be converted in yen

I don’t remember sunset walks or moonlit talks, strolls in the park, or road trips on never ending highways

I don’t remember what chicken cacciatore tastes like, or carrot cake frosting

I don’t remember what your kisses were like, or the scar you have underneath your nose… right above your lip

I don’t remember catching fireflies, or setting them free, or even walking underneath persistent rains

I don’t remember being rushed, nervous, or even scared… I don’t remember your heavy stare

I can barely recall our memories… but do remember being blank

I don’t remember feeling this empty.  I don’t remember you.