Izabellah Aleman's poem is a string of memories, each beginning with the same words: "I remember." The repetition makes it feel like the speaker is working through a painful inventory, one item at a time. The early lines describe losing things that are hard to see, such as emotions and trust, and then receiving a diagnosis of severe depression at a young age. The middle lines turn darker, naming a suicide attempt and self-harm without any softening.
The last three lines change direction. Instead of remembering what happened, the speaker remembers the final time they felt something good: a smile, a laugh, a sense of hope. Those "last" moments suggest that joy has become a thing of the past.
The mood is heavy, raw, and quiet. The plain language and short lines read like someone stating facts because they can't find a gentler way to say them. The closing title-line feels like a sad summary of everything that came before.