a distant artifact

national poetry writing month 2025, day 8

i typed your name into my gmail search bar
and nothing came up

i don’t know what I was looking for
when i typed your name into my gmail search bar.

a playlist you sent me,
scans from when you cleaned out
your grandmother’s attic,

me begging for closure.

i’m usually better at preserving
a digital footprint,
a memory

i must’ve gotten rid of it
whatever i was looking for
in a haze of desperation.

desperation to forget
to ‘forgive’
(or feigning to forgive)
to release this chapter.

but now, longing for
some connection
a distant artifact
a reminder of what was,

but i typed your name in my gmail search bar
and i was relieved when nothing came up,
when i typed your name in my gmail search bar.