Keepsake

There’s something about remembering,
Something about the way it feels to return to a moment,
Something about how I lose myself in the past,
That scares me and excites me simultaneously.

I tried to forget a lot of things,
Tried to forget the way you held me,
How your kiss warmed me,
The way your name felt slipping from my tongue…

But these things are etched into my heart,
As if it’s only purpose was to be erected as a
Monument of us, of you, of who you made me feel I was.
No, maybe they are more like an epitaph.

We buried ourselves so long ago.
Our love, our life together became an unmarked grave,
And the one thing I’ve managed to truly forget, is where we left ourselves.
So, I leave flowers at every nameless tombstone I come across in hopes of finding us beneath the dried petals and overgrown weeds.

We are not lost,
I have to remind myself that we are not lost.
You are only a phone and bad judgment call away,
I have your number memorized, and the sound of your voice,
The way you said my name,
The way you said my name like you still loved me.

There’s something about remembering,
Something about the way it feels to return to the moments we were in love,
Something about how I lost myself inside the dream of our future,
That saddens me and relieves me at the same time.

I tried to forget everything.
That didn’t work so now, I don’t try.
I just let it be what it can only be.
And hold your memory like a keepsake in my heart.

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