If you can make me
forget the lies you told,
would you steal
my other things?
Even my dreams?
Leaving you
and the stories behind,
I fly away
from the blue
of your eye,
the smile I thought
meant you were happy.
Memories, all
up in smoke
like a witch’s spell,
and even if I love you,
I don’t remember.
You stole that
from me too.
Are you my partner
or my editor?
Lover or predator?
I carry boxes
out the door,
leaving you
to find regret
on the bathroom
floor.
It would have
been easy
for me to stay,
but you gave that,
you gave it away.
You stole my
memories.
Would you lie
and take my
other things?