Duck Duck Goose

When all this has passed, you won't remember a thing. Like they all say, the bully doesn't remember anything, the bullied remembers every detail. But there is no bully in this case. Just the lover and the loved. You're on the train, ready to go with the gentle grey steam, to leave this town behind, but I see the wheels lock into each degree like a second hand on a clock, faster and faster until the mechanical rigidness has mutilated itself into a seamless turbine. I watch the heavy grey puffs slowly grow lighter like feathers in the wind as they too lift away with your departure. The grass around my bare toes are dry, bristly and rustle as I shift my weight from one foot to the other. Every second is poured scripture into a journal of time. You won't remember, and I don't expect you to. But I will never forget every single night I stay up, laying in bed feeling forgotten, cursing at my phone in a pretence that it would make me care less about where you are, whether you've gotten home. I talk to myself, saying how stupid you are, talk to my phone, saying this is some kind of sick joke, it's like pretending I don't care would make me forget about you too. Maybe if I say something enough, it'll come true. If I could only burn these thoughts and give them to you as ashes in a bottle, maybe you'd see how I once felt. 'once'.