Written by Asa McCoy
Time has it that memories fade
but feelings stay.
It's hard to remember your hand
Striking my face, though I understood
that you love me.
As cloudy as fire is puerile
are the images of our laying upon
the greenest weeds, gazing past our galaxy,
You telling me I'm hateful, though I listened
to the rhythm of your anger.
I wept. You knew. I weep still.
I can seldom recall
the coldness of the night
You called me stupid, but
I lamented over not taking out the trash
five minutes earlier, for that might've saved you
the trouble of your heartache.
No longer can I recognize time,
and its beauty burns hollow
for I know I will continue to forget.