Won for Seven

There's a gap between the desk and draw
Where the forgets lay resting on the floor.
Only when the scribble clears do I understand the weight,
The subtle hints once too insecure for fate.
It wasn't the mixtape stapled in its prison,
Or the smell of cologne that had once proudly risen,
It was the shivers. Do you remember the shivers?
They started by the pool underneath under the lip quivers
Where secrets were exchanged, words too raw it burned to say.
Significance in question; I still remember that day.

Now my mouth burns remembering it is less than a memory,
Pushed in to a corner so my broken eyes don't have to see.
Motions keep going, sometimes remembering the forgets;
After all the bleached angels I have seen, my home's inside regret.
Put on that dusty mixtape, but the voice sings too slow;
Why did yesterday have to come and go?