Words Left Unsaid #17

You were my everything, and that's nothing to scoff at. Now, you're just t-shirts. a totebag. drawings. nerf darts. flowers. an entire box of memories. and a you-shaped hole in my chest. I miss you still. And I can't bring myself to throw these items away, because they're all that I have left of you. That and poems that are filled with you. You never truly left. Because you're poetry and items, that litter my room.