You told me not to remind you anymore, that you would always remember.
But you were wrong.
You told me not to tell you when I was forgotten, you would notice.
But you were wrong.
I sit. I wait. I watch.
But you never come back.
I slowly lose hope of you ever remembering.
Finally, I give up, and tell you.
But you won’t listen.
You claim it’s not your fault, you remembered.
But that means you forgot on purpose.
I wrote this about my dad forgetting to pick me up from dance class. I believe it could work for many things in life. As I read back through I thought of other things that connected. It just fits so many scenarios about so many things.
I appreciate your self-reflection here. It’s interesting to know the inspiration and context for your piece, and how you can see it applying to other scenarios and situations as well.
It’s almost like an internal monologue you’re having with yourself. I wonder how it changes with “And” instead of “But” to begin those lines. Does “you” have a voice here? Just curious.
Thanks for sharing today!