Do you remember playing till our fingers bled?
Do you remember laughing till our cores ached?
Do you not remember fighting till we broke apart?
Do you not remember bickering till we got tired?
How could you forget, when this is all I remember of us;
when my dreams whisper of those times;
when my foolish heart begs me to turn back time;
when all I want back is you?
Your memory sits locked in a box in the back of my head,
heavily armoured, and reminding me of its weight,
as if taunting me into unboxing it,
and face the torrent of the storms inside.
Now, when you pass me, you don't even bother
to say hello or even look at me,
engrossed in the pale blues of your shoes, eyes downcast,
as if ashamed of being associated with me.
You shook my hand last week during the festival-
Your touch familiar, unfamiliarly so, already gone, unlingering.
You warmly greeted my family, eyes back to their shine,
just not with me, tell me why?
Is it only me who feels this way, who treasured,
hoarded the happiness of those times-
the fights, the laughter, the pretending to hate, only to admit later
and profess otherwise?
Please, tell me you remember, for my heart can't take it anymore,
the way you're so casually cruel, unaware of how much I need you
to be normal again, and how much you don't even know you're
destroying me, inside out.