Remember the good days?
Remember when we had days
that deserved at least a mildly
positive adjective? I remember.
Sometimes I have a certain feeling
or a smell or a sound to remind me
and just like that I am there.
In that moment when everything
was right and people were smiling.
It’s strange the way it gives me
that nervous butterfly feeling
just from thinking about it.
I’m not sure if that’s anxiety
or happiness, but it’s something.
There were good days.
I used to be someone different.
I used to be that person,
the one always smiling
like she was in love with the world.
I was good at stuff.
I still had some care carved into me.
Do you miss her?
I do sometimes, but most of the time
I don’t even remember who she was
or what she was smiling for.
It makes me mad
the way she even existed.
But it makes me mad that she doesn’t.
What if she stole my life from me
and she’s living somewhere
with my smile?
What if she’s the one who ruined me
and all this time I’ve blamed you?
Maybe both of you are to blame.
I don’t even care anyway.
You leave and go find her.
Go find the one who stole my smile
and the two of you can laugh together.
Maybe she will be all you ever dreamed of,
the way I’m not, but I used to be.
Seems like a lifetime ago.
I never liked her
but I loved her so much.
Do you remember?
I do. Barely.