What's It Like To Forget Things? Poem by Maxwell Searcy

I tried to sit down and write a poem about how much I hate you,
but there weren’t any words
so, instead,
I used numbers.

It came out like a telephone call
to a foreign country where they only speak in broken phrases and
bits
that sound like
I’m so excited.
And
I’m so happy.
And
He’s really cool.
And
I think I might be in love.

I don’t have
an English to
Heartbreaking-LifeEnding- SoulCrushingDepressionInducingese
dictionary
So I might have to use Google translator
And the phrases might come out even more broken than before
Or
Maybe
they’ll come out fixed-
like a cartoon amnesiac with an even number of bumps on the head.

If I sit here long enough, maybe some English words will pour out and
resolve themselves into some semblance of meaning involving
the three of us
or
maybe-
If I sit here long enough,
maybe-
I’ll fall asleep and
my head will fall serendipitously onto the desk and
I’ll be one of those cartoon amnesiacs and
I’ll forget all about
You.