There are moments that I cling to
With a clenched fist in the back of my head
Sometimes, in agony, my hands pound against the back of my skull
It is a resounding cry, though it changes naught
Only leaving little cracks to match the ones in my heart

And like these memories there are things, tangible things, that I touch with my own to hands
These things have been given to me by life and lovers alike
And just as I keep my memories locked in the back of my mind
These things I keep tucked away

These pieces are the left behinds of those passing through
I keep them in a box
Like a memory bank for the past

It is a box of scars that holds together what was my souls bleeding, faded but not forgotten

And as you left me as I am
With pieces of fabric in my hands
This thought traces my mind
And as I put you away I cannot help but think that you are just
Another one for the box
When I wanted everything with you and everything for you
Maybe even happiness
Maybe more
Just another one for the box