I’m always losing things,
But not always because I’m forgetful.
People’s trust and special rings
Are not easily misplaced.

I’m always losing things,
Or at least that is what I say happened
To the aching memories, to the balm
that stings.
I’d rather forget than forgive.

I’m always losing things:
The oatmeal that slivers down the
long drain,
The weight that falls off my body, the
tight skin that clings,
That’s what I live for and die for too.

I’m always losing things,
Things I didn’t want to but somehow let slip.
Down the well they fall, flying away
on tiny wings.
I call, Let me come too, I didn’t want to
forget after all.