I stand here, clutching
the last piece of you I have left.
To some, just a shirt; but to me, a memory
A memory I find myself
longing
to bring to life.
Of a time where I could
find myself lost
in you.
A memory of holding tightly to
the plateau of your body
the warmth of you pressed against me
in a fiery passion.
Things that are now dead
A memory of why
I’m
Now
Broken