poem....not sure if i like it

I’ve stopped writing about you, maybe that means I’m past it
but I’ve stopped writing completely.
I’ve had a failure of imagination, and I’ve forgotten how to be me.
In the moments I remember, all I remember is you
and the shapes the freckles on your arm made.
I remember that you were my heartbeat,
even if I didn’t hear it, even if I didn’t feel it.
Some days, I didn’t notice. Some days, I failed to imagine.