Forgotten Poem by Ziyanda KUBONI

I watch memories of me fade,
like the wind, I am blown away from your mind.
Once, I was one of a kind,
now I am just a distant tale.
Little by little, you don't need me.
I am disposable.
The smile you once shone on me
has become night.
The eyes that used to light up
at the sight of me
have become dim with irritation.
Oh, my love,
how on earth did you fall out of love with me?
You feel like a stranger,
perhaps a distant memory.
When did you forget about me?
Did you really fall out of love?
Have you really turned your back on me?
Before I vanished from your memory,
I was once your home.
I was the very light of your existence,
your garden with seeds sprouting.
I was her.
The woman you fell in love with.
The woman who laughed at all your jokes.
The woman who had fart contests with you.
The woman who laid her head upon your chest
in the stillness of the night.
The woman who held your hand.
The woman who looked at you
with eyes beaming with love.
Your woman.
And you were my home too.
You still are.
The love of my life.
My comedian.
My protector.
The one for me.
You will forever be the man for me,
regardless of whatever obstacle we have faced.
You remain my future.
I might be crazy for this,
but I cannot lie.
You always have been
and will remain
the one for me.
But how could I forget you?
The man who has given me
so much to remember him by.
The two tiny creations
that resemble you so much.
I see you everywhere
and therefore cannot bring myself to forget you.
It feels like you have forgotten
everything we were to each other.
We have hurt each other.
That is a truth we cannot escape.
We both bleed
from each other's dagger.
But when we said
we were "stuck with one another
for the rest of our lives, "
I meant it.
I believed it
with all my heart.
Even pain cannot make me forget that vow.
Perhaps forever
doesn't have our names inscribed in it,
but somehow,
I am willing to fight destiny on that.
I am not fighting
for the materialistic life we have built.
I am fighting for the soul attachment.
I am fighting for the man
who prays with me
and for me.
I am fighting for
the spiritual bond we once shared.
When did we become
so broken and cold?
When did we become
so distant and lonely,
even in each other's presence?
When did we become
so far gone?
What happened to us?
If you haven't forgotten us,
I need you to hold me in an embrace.
I need you to fight with me.
Not against me.
With me.
I need you to show me
that you still want us.
Because somewhere beneath
the hurt, the anger, the silence,
and all the wounds we have given each other,
I am still here.
Still remembering.
Still loving.
Still hoping.
Still choosing you.
And perhaps that is the cruelest part
of feeling forgotten—
knowing that while I am fighting
to remember who we were,
a part of me is still waiting
for you to remember too.
To remember me.
To remember us.
To remember
that before we became strangers,
we were home.