unsent draft messages

In time—
I won’t remember your face,
nor its contours or expressions
Only emotions will remain

Nor will I remember the reasons,
only the pangs of a ‘how could you?’,
the tickling giggle of an ‘oh my god, remember when?’,
not your voice or tone,
nor what was even said back then

The starting credits will read:
‘Based on a true story’,
‘An adaptation of…’

And I’ll impatiently hit ‘skip intro‘—
because I always remember exactly what happened…

or so I keep telling myself.