Forgetful Poem by Maya Hanson

I am the worst kind of forgetful.
I want to remember how to know you,
I want to remember all your syllables
and string them together like fairy lights at sunset,
I want to remember what you need me to forget.

I have the worst kind of smile.
You can draw it out too easily.
I try not to smile in front of people who know me too well,
they might keep it like a memory.
I don't want to build any memories,
most things I build don't last.

I am the worst kind of armrest.
When I try to hold you I feel your balance breaking,
hands shake but I don't want a handshake,
I want clovers and whispers and sand in our shoes,
midnights that don't need to end.

I want to run but I have the worst kind of balance.
I try to have stronger muscles,
ones that won't struggle when I hit the rocks,
I trip and fall too easily.

I have the worst kind of current.
When the air is silent
I don't have the voice to fill it with sparks.
When the air is electric
I fall for your stars like lightning.

I am lucky to have this street to walk.
But I don't like being this kind of forgetful.
I remember everything.