If I had any children, I would tell them this
"Even if I don't remember you,
I love you."
Every day, I lose some pieces
Pieces of my world, pieces of the puzzle
They fall behind the dresser,
They hide under the bed
And everyday, it gets harder to find them
Every day, a girl comes to my house
She changes my clothes, cleans the dishes
And she lets me cry on her shoulders
She must be my daughter
At least that's what I choose to believe
Every day I wake up lonelier,
The sun is harsher on my eyes
The world is sharp, I don't wear glasses
It does make it harder for me though
When I don't recognize anything
What is this life, what am I?
Do memories not make a person?
Am I not alive? Am I not real?
Does everyone else exist?
Why do I keep breathing?