Forgotten.

I forgot to put on deodorant today

and the three days before.

I forgot to wash behind my ears in the shower

yesterday morning.

I forgot your hand that curled around my neck

like the rats winding the streets of Alphabet City.

I forgot what you looked like when I peered up

from the floor

and I forgot if you responded as I cried out ‘no’

and my skull smashed against the bottom of my bureau.

I forgot the way you split me open from behind

and whether or not actual tears ever fell.

I forgot the way you undid me and left me in a pile

of dirty laundry and lotion on the ground.

I forgot you kissed me goodbye as if you didn’t just

unwrap my bones.

I forgot to not forget

and then I remembered that I couldn’t.