Amnesia
She can’t remember
The good times;
Only the bad
Stay with her.
She remembers the fights
But not who started them,
Remembers the yelling
But not the kisses that
Kept her alive through
All of our travels.
The morning that she
Drove through the night
And collapsed into
My waiting arms,
And we fell asleep
Snuggled together
On the couch
Because it had been
So long since we’d
Known eachother’s
Touches, might
Never have happened.
The day we moved
Into our first apartment
Together and she
Put my mother’s
Dining room table
Together wrong,
And our dog
Tore up the carpet
And I had to
Replace it myself,
But we laughed
The whole time
Is just darkness
In her mind.
All those times we laughed
And loved each other
In the silver glare
Of strands of moonlight
Are nothing to her
And everything to me.
She remembers
Anger, sadness, despair,
But can’t recall
Joy, hope, elation;
What I wouldn’t give
To take her amnesia
Onto myself so that she
No longer despaired, and I
Never wanted her again.
