I can feel the past
i-love-yous,
like scars
on my skin,
a corrupted version of
forget-me-nots.
Tell me
how can I
not forget
but not remember?
Mortality is a blessing.
At least
I won’t remember you
then.

Categories: Art, Poetry, UncategorizedTags: c.eve, ceve, dark art, dark poem, dark poetry, poem, poetry, shadow of eve, shadowofeve, shadowofeve.com