Bereaved

I don’t remember me.
I try to imagine myself,
But she slips farther away,
She changes her face.
I don’t remember

Who I was…
What I loved…

Was I pleasant?
Quiet?

Loud?
Irritating?

Some people liked being around me.

Others couldn’t stand me.

What was I like to talk to?
Was I kind?

What did I hope for?
What made me laugh?

Do I have a baseline
Hidden somewhere

Or am I all washed out to sea?

When the moment came,
No one cared what happened to me.

I think that’s what killed me.