The Words I May Say

Metaphors

The pictures of you I saved like recurring dreams
Taunting me, saying "You would've been able to see her again, if you had done better."

The texts messages I forgot to delete, like a time machine into the past
Where nothing really mattered but love

The dress you left at my house
It's you in every way
Soft, A bit rough around the edges, well loved, delacte, and gone.
I threw it away in a burst of anger, like I did your heart. Now all that's left is memories.