I miss people,
People who shaped me, moulded me into the way I am
I’m forgetful, I forget a lot of things
But I never forget the way someone made me feel
I cling to the good memories, the little memories
Cause they are far less than the bad ones
I hold onto the good stuff
The good memories are so slippery
Tend to slip away the moment they end
And it’s hard when only you miss this stuff
The other people don’t even remember any of it
It’s difficult to be the only one reminiscing
I remember so many people, their habits, their catchphrases
But it is worthless to recollect these things
Why do I have so many people in the trip down of my memory lane?
And why can’t I forget them like the others do?
Maybe I feel too much
I don’t express it entirely
It makes me vulnerable and clingy
So instead when someone doesn’t remember me
I lie and say I don’t either.