I remember you.
Though you are blurry around the edges,
I know the center — your rotten core — I know it all too well.
I’ve blocked you out — for the most part.
But every time I see it, I get reminded of you.
Every. Single. Time.
Without fail.
You are someone I will never be able to erase completely.
You will always be a smudge of ink in my perfectly clean sheet of paper.
A wrinkle in my clean clothes.
Always there, no matter how hard I try to smooth you out.
But, just maybe, I’ll be able to keep you there — just a little wrinkle in a big piece of cloth.