Raindrops on the Window

Pillows

There is a scent on my pillow

That is not just of me

It smells faintly of a lost love

Of a long forgotten destiny.

I cannot help but grip it tight

and breathe the scent in nice and deep

This lingering of you

Is all I have to keep.

I do not know how I have it still

For others have been where you lay.

Yet somehow this ghost of you

Is what I wake to every day.

I want to keep it, should push it away

Which is why I again changed the bed.

I set fire to the memories and watched them burn....

Which is why I know these pillows are in my head.