There's something in my head that is missing

Yet refuses to make its presence known

How do you determine the look of something

That you've never seen

Or a voice

That you've never heard

How can you define

Only by the indistinct edges carved from what's left

How much was carved away by your hands

Or eroded away by time

How do you recover the pieces

When there's none left to reach out and grasp

And it all slides through your fingers like sand

I don't know [] anymore

So if []

Plucked my eyes from their sockets

Broke my eardrums so I wouldn't hear

Tore out my tongue and throat

Only then would I be like []

Only then could [] and I call this 'even'

Light without darkness

Sound without silence

Me without []

Well, that's simple

Clearly I am whatever I am now

Me if I'd never met []

Do [] think I'd be happier

She came to me the other day

Yelling that I'd [ ]

That I'd [ ]

...

...

I can't even remember the accusation.

Only that she was angry

I don't have any. People tell stories I should have been there for, but when the speak, I stop hearing. Their voices become muffled. Sometimes I feel myself nodding along. Sometimes I feel myself speaking, but I never recall what I say. Sometimes people hold up pictures, but I don't know what I saw when they showed me their screen. They'll play recordings and it just sounds like static. Sometimes they'll even talk right to me, and I won't even know if we had a conversation at all.

Sometimes, rarely, I remember people saying, "I'm sorry". But I don't know what they're sorry about. I think that I should be the one apologizing instead.

Hotaru

It's always the worst when I'm with you. I love you. I'm sorry.

We'll be walking in the park and we'll be talking like normal and then the last five minutes disappear. I go over to your house and I can't even remember what your living room looks like. I just wake up when I'm in the kitchen.

It's not fair. It's not fair. I want to spend every second I can with you. I don't know why it goes missing. I want it back.

But recently I've been remembering more of our conversations, and it hurts.

Because I know it's not because I my memory is getting better.

It's just because you've stopped bringing up the thing that I keep forgetting.