Echos of a Past Love

I’m beginning to understand why people
Recommend that you throw out or store
Anything that belonged to your ex…
Because I see him all over.

He’s there in the blanket set that he bought me,
In the photographs and stuffed animals,
In the jewelry and clothing,
The table,
Even the goddamn Candelabra.

Part of me still cares enough about him
That I don’t want to throw it away…
But the rest of me screams to
Burn it,
Destroy it,
Remove every trace of him from my daily life
Because there just isn’t room.

And then there’s that fucking bookcase,
I curse the day he made it for me…
To me it signifies the end of it all,
The moment that I took his heart and
Crushed it in my bare hands,
Scattering the remains in burning coals.

I recognize that I’ve chosen to keep him
In my life…
But does it make me a terrible person
If I want to remove those things that
Remind me of when we were together?


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