People are so easily forgotten.
They are the imprint left by a flower between two pages of a book;
The flower was placed there to remind you of something significant upon those pages,
but looking back you can't seem to remember what.
All you see now is this tiresome stain at the very top of the page.
You're very much like that,
you remind me of that stain of careless forgetfulness
and idle thoughts.
You remind me of how you have ruined the entirety of this book,
merely by staying in some forgotten chapter
and smiling your smiles of lies and deception.
You remind me of that.
I always hope I won't be forgotten, but I know better than that.
Every time I think about how you have forgotten me,
I hope I left the ugliest, reddest stains upon your pages,
and I hope I have ruined your life.
That way at least I have done the world a favor.
I hope when people look through your book, and see the stain,
They discard it instantly,
Because I wouldn’t wish them to waste their time.
