I am graphite pencil
In your sketchbook.
You drew me once,
Drew me twice,
Closed the book shut
And erased me from your mind.
You flipped past to a new page-
Past my forgotten sketch
Till all my pigment is lost
In an ocean of forgotten sketches
Like me.

Maybe, in the future
You might find your old sketchbooks
And revisit these pages
And stumble across me.
Faded, almost invisible, unremembered.
You might wonder, for a second
Who this girl was supposed to be
And then move on,
The insignificant thought erased.

But my memories still linger
For as long as the graphite does,
Staining your yellowed pages
Never fully leaving.
I remember you
I remember the tired boy
Tracing and retracing a graphite drawing
Trying to make her stay bold and strong
Trying to make her linger
Hoping at least she
could anchor you to the world
that so easily forgot you.
But then you forgot her
Another lost cause.

I'm sorry, love.

I couldn't be what you needed me to be.