I knew her, once,
when she was smaller, I think.
She had a short…sweet name?
She used to visit with the snowfall
and the loud woman I live with
would decorate the rooms
and the table would be filled with
After we sat for a time,
the little girl would leave with those she came.
Even small words became harder.
the same girl came again
and her face seemed familiar
but I could not place her name.
When I tried to start placing things,
a deep pressure would build
in my head.
Sadness and anger were all I could stir up.
I see that face in my mind
and I know I knew the name
that went with it
But it seems to have disappeared.