The Spot That You Hold.

Through Boxes and pictures, digging for notes.

Something to cling to that gives me some hope.

I want a new memory to play in my head

A yearning so hopeless, you’re better off dead

It would leave me with absence that’s, so definite, so closed

That no gap in my heart would be kept for your home

But you are still out there, so I still leave a space.

You go on through your life and you still own a place.

Up for sale, and no takers, so it says “empty lot”

The sign that reminds me I’m still someplace you’re not

Is it selfish of me to want you to stay

To know you’d be with me if I had my way

But who you are now, is not what I want.

I want the old you to stay in this spot.

Now as quick a gun shot and as sharp as a knife.

I find who I wanted, no longer has life.

Walking dead to me, you’ve got life but no soul,

At least not the same soul for the spot that I hold.