Forgetting
One day I thought you'd awaken with no recollection of my presence in your world. I imagined you were already cleansed. I thought each glimpse of your image in my head meant one less memory of me in yours. But you weren't extracting me, were you? When I was convincing myself that you were done, you were willing yourself with courage to return. You’d close your eyes to rest and hear my laugh instead, longing for what you never should've left. You acknowledged my existence, in fact I existed too much - in your chest, within your skull, sticking to your skin, seeping through your bones. You saw me when I saw you and perhaps some nights you even wanted me as I once yearned for you. It’s nice to know we're not so different, that what I felt for you was neither more or less significant.
