Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom. Butch Hartman does.

"Talking"

"Thoughts"

"Poem or emphasized thoughts"

Sam Deer, a senior in high school, slowly tapped his pencil against his desk as his eyes flicked down the list handed to him by his teacher. It was of feelings – they were supposed to pick one and use it as the title of a poem. His sapphire blue eyes halted on 'lost,' then went drifted down to 'love' a few words below it. For some reason he felt as though he knew the way that they would be said, with a slight accent—

—purple lips quirked up in a sad smile, a lilting voice speaking roughly… "Better to have loved and lost than have never loved at all, right D—?" cut off no she's gone where'd she go this can't have happened where's my S—

Sam shuddered. He had never really gotten used to the random flashbacks of his old life. All he had remembered when he woke up with amnesia a little less than a year ago was the name 'Sam.' It didn't quite fit him, but at the same time it felt somehow…right.

He frowned. Well, if the words had leaped out at him like that, maybe if he let himself write freely, he would unconsciously be able to access his blocked memories. It's worth a shot, he thought, and pulled out a sheet of paper.

They say it's better to have loved and lost

Than to have never loved at all

The raven-haired senior paused. What came next? It was poetry, of course, so it was just writing what you felt, right? So…he let the feeling nestling in his heart expand, grow. As he did, he just felt emptier. He felt as though something very important was missing...

Duh, he thought. Your memories. Your entire life from before two years ago is a blank slate.

Sam glanced towards the clock. They hadn't gotten the list until only fifteen minutes were left in the period. They had ten minutes left – he'd spent a while dallying.

His eyes turned back towards the paper. Something missing, huh? He composed the next two lines, making sure the word order was as he meant it and how he felt was entered into the equation as well, then wrote it down.

But worst still would be to lose a love

Yes, he could feel that he had lost someone. Someone important to him.

And not know who you lost

Someone he had lov—

—amethyst eyes sparkling with laughter; a high, tinkling laugh; a silky black curtain of hair partially in a ponytail; a beautiful purple and black dress swishing noiselessly around daintily slippered feet; slender porcelain hands clutching a golden ring as he flew (flew?) away—

—ed?

Yes. He suddenly ached with pain, but wrote down another line.

Mother, sister, lover, friend?

—"WE ARE NOT LOVEBIRDS!"

"We're just friends, I swear! Just really good friends!"

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

"I knew it! I knew you two would get together! God, it was sooo obvious. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go collect the money I just won from that bet…"—

Who was it? Who did I lose?

—"Don't leave me, please don't leave me…

"Please. Please…I love you…"—

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Sam quickly jotted down the last line, sighing sadly. The emotions tangled in with his flashbacks were awful. He would have to sort through them later, try to make sense of them.

He shoved his papers into his bag and slung it over his shoulder, ready to head back home to his – empty – apartment. He walked out of the room; his shoulders were slumped as the last line he had written down echoed mockingly in his ears.

…I can't remember.

A/N: So, this is the fourth DP fic that I wrote. As stated in other notes, I felt it was too short and thus moved it here. It's kind of...ugh. There's a reason I don't write poetry very often. It's not too good...poetry is probably the hardest thing to write. For me, at least.