It’s always the little things that get you.
The absence of a second toothbrush
Bits of laundry that aren’t yours
Suddenly that shelf is empty
I wonder what I used to keep there.
Whose shampoo is this? Whose shirt?
A note in sloppy handwriting
That fell out of my backpack
Dated back to ancient history
Captures an evasive moment
Language no one speaks but you
A pair of borrowed socks
A coat you lent me one cold night
And gifts, that made me glow with pride
Are sour when I think of them.
The college campus tinted blue
The corners where I laughed because
I was so happy, so surprised
That you could understand so deeply
Why I like the things I do.
Moments where I didn’t need
To make an effort just to smile
Since my cheeks were sore from grinning.
Now I have some things to do
First change the lock screen on my phone
My profile picture, cover photo
Oh, and my relationship status.
Photographs aren’t little things
They’re fragile bottled memories
A frame that froze so perfectly,
Preserves an ounce or two of joy
Reminding me how good I felt
Some time ago that isn’t now.