The Things I Carry

I carry your heart, out of necessity.
I carry your heart, by choice.
A thin shirt to keep you close,
A thick pain, because you're gone.
I carry the dried-up, once purple flowers,
Sitting in the pale, rose-colored vase,
Reminding me of your pale, rose-colored lips.
I carry a wall covered in memories.
I carry a body covered in memories.
A few picture frames, a yellow note pad that I pour you into, a bad sunburn
And a calendar with an X over the first day are among the things I carry.
I carry the immeasurable fear of being left,
But also the immeasurable bliss of being together.
I carry the smell of your neck and the sight of your tears.
I carry the feel of togetherness and the taste of your soul.
I carry the first time I touhed you and the last time I saw you.
I carry the last time I touched you and the first time I loved you.
I carry your sincere blue eyes and deceptive black hair.
I carry your well-groomed, but not too-groomed, fingers,
And your body on mine like a shield, or maybe a drug.
I carry a love that wanders, but will never be lost.