Documents

I want a picture of my old house
I want to hold it in my hand.
I want a picture of your bed
and a photo of "I love you," too
I want a CD of straw bales and fireworks and slurpees
and a drawing of our music
I want a photo of all our life
I want to hold it in my hand.
I want left over apple pie, and I want all the times you twitched in your sleep to be put in a box and sent all the way out here, I want a poem of your cooking hanging on my wall I want a glass vase filled with all the weed you smoked so I can smash and shatter all the promises you never kept all the times you never showed I want my clock so I can turn it back and set the alarm to wake up all those sleeping dogs that I let lie I want every single "You're beautiful" on a candlewick and I want a lighter and I wanna watch it all go up in smoke
I want a bouquet of your stupid cheesy jokes, I want a chocolate box of kisses on the top of my head.
I want a mixed tape of your thick black girly lashes.
I want a photograph of ice cream and whistling and bicycles, I want to hold it in my hand.
I want a picture of our street and the roses that finally bloomed
I want a photo of your hand, so I can hold it in mine.