Almost

I wonder if you think of me.
I don't expect you to miss me,
but do you remember me?

You have ruined the trees for me,
cause they whisper I could have climbed them with you.

I've got rid of your memories,
your bite mark, your aroma on my sheets,
the drawings I made for you, and the picture of your cat.
But my Sunday sunrises feel colder,
and I wonder... do you think of me?

I'm laying on the open all we did, the places we went,
the city with your name,
I hid your picture in a book I'll never read,
to purge my mind and body of your flavor.
And when I think I'm almost done,
a tree whispers, a whale sings, or a popcorn falls from my neck.

I want to remember with a smile,
that you could dance without music,
that you'll flip me around in any street corner
and you almost made me like cats. Almost.

I can't help but wonder,
did I made the same impression?
Did I leave a little mark?
Had I some sort of meaning in your life?

Maybe I didn't bite hard enough,
or scratch deep enough.
Maybe i was too familiar and comfortable.
We both knew I wouldn't last forever,
but it felt forever while it last.

Is there any color that will bring me to your mind?
An author or an animal? Any aroma, any song?

There are not regrets in the short term,
cause intensity was worth while.
No sadness on the risks, or the fall,
cause the thrill of the ride.

One thing will be remorseful though,
if I was not specific enough,
not vibrant enough for you to remember me for my details,
it'll mean you didn't know me at all,
and that will be my fault.