Sometimes I look at these objects and I wish I could see what you see. I wish I could see just a piece of paper, A generic birthday card, a note, a painting, I wish I could see through the eyes of anyone else but mine. When I look at these things, I see hurt, I see anger, I see a deep and mournful longing for the past, I see my mistakes, I see my scars embodied in these mundane objects. I don't see what you see. I see a birthday card from a loved one long past, A note of affection from a betrayed lover, A picture painted from a love but neglected And tarnished by time and ego. I miss you, old friend, and I'm sorry I let you wither And fade out of my life when you needed me most. I want you to feel what I feel through these things. Well, you might not understand and don't have the story or context, Just know that these things inflict and evoke a pain I can feel deep down at the bottom of my heart. I know you can't feel what I feel, But I want you to have them so I don't have to be reminded of that hurt anymore. So I don't have to make that profound sadness dictate my future And strangle me into submission to the point where I refuse To make new memories because The old ones are taking up too much space. I want you to hold that pain in your hands. These were my things, but now they're yours.