Worn Out Shirt. . . That Smells Like You

As I lay here
With your shirt
In my hands
I’m holding onto it
Like my life depended on it
Tears roll down my face
As I take your scent in again
I think the smell of you is wearing off
I wish it wasn’t
I take the picture of you
Off my nightstand
And as I look at it
One of my tears falls onto it
Maybe you’re crying too
I remember every memory
Like they happened only yesterday
But it has been a while
Since I saw you
Hugged you
Heard your voice
This will be the fifth week
I have sat on my bed
Like this
I guess that means
We are five weeks closer
To seeing each other again
Those five weeks
Have felt like five years
With only your shirt
To hold onto
To hug and to hold
It is the closest thing
I have to you
Right now
And your picture
Is the only thing I have
To seeing you again
For a long time
So I’m gonna lay here
For a little bit longer
And hold on to the memories
Of you
Of when you were
Still here





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