I can't understand why I feel like this.
I honestly thought that this inane business
was long over and done with.
My mind has examined and re-examined
all known facts, variable and fixed,
and still has to come up with
a pertinent explanation
for why this confusion gives birth
to butterflies in the pit of my stomach
every time we pass each other by.

And I don't even know you well.
Just your name and some other
seemingly relevant random facts
I would now rather forget.
Memory's leftovers.

Yet come to think of it, in ten years, 
maybe I won't even remember your name
or all the other things that remind me of you.
Just please don't make me cry now
because then I'd remember you 
for the rest of this lifetime. 


gone | lazy