Overturn Poem by Uriah Hamilton

I've tried to forget the sound of your voice
And your straight auburn hair,
The excited way that you talk,
The poetic sway of your long legs
When through the city you'd walk;

I've tried to forget the music in the air
Anytime that we've met,
Your favorite songs or the books that you've read,
Your travels abroad and exotic thoughts,
Your sexy fedora and party dress.

I've tried to forget a thousand poems
That recount your eyes when you're sad
Or the melancholy of your mouth in the moment
Of a secret hurt you couldn't reveal,
I've tried to forget the sound of your name
And the way it makes me feel.

I've told myself I can abandon
Any memory of you,
That I can easily make it through my existence
Without any recollections of you,
That if anything were to remain,
It would only be contempt and disdain.

But you and I know none of this is true,
That there isn't any thought of you
That doesn't leave me staggering
Like a drunk on a staircase,
That there's nothing in me
That wouldn't weep to touch your face,
That there's no rendezvous or place
In which I would fail to meet you
At your slightest behest.

You're happy now and I'm content
To be your stranger or your friend,
But you have to be cognizant that nothing has changed,
Nothing has been constructed in me
That a single word from you could not overturn.