She Forgets, But I Remember
The world forgets. I stay watching.
Black run grace now bruised walking.
Boardroom thunder now whispers, cacking.
Teacup trembling. Socks mismatching.
She forgets names. I say nothing.
The eyes go first—then knowing.
She stares at mirrors, untrusting, slowing.
Follows ghosts through half-lit morning.
Where is Ethan? Is he coming?
She's here. Then not. I keep going.
Every day, a quiet surrender.
But love stays loud. Fierce defender.
I swear this: I won't severer.
She is storm. Not just sufferer.
I carry two hearts. Together. Forever.
So here's to those still standing.
To carers cracked but never landing.
To the lost who keep commanding.
To love, loud—through all unplanning.
She forgets. I rise, demanding.