A Cardboard Box

Crawled under the house to retrieve
something's that I had fogotten.
While I took them out, I sorted and found
that most of what I'd stored, was damp and rotten.

As I sorted through the memories I once knew
stuck together were photos of you and me
As I pulled them apart, the memories rushed to my heart
past memories now a big part of all the others.


Was more then mold in that cardboard box
there were those memories of things from my past.
But as I now see, they will always be, in my hearts memories
and not those tangible things that just won't last.

Value

His hands are always warm, like they were made for my cold ones
His insecurities never goes away, and he needs me to reassure him
He's dark and light in all the best ways that someoe could be both
His handwriting is a scrawl of an angel and he knows it
Spend a second in his arms and you'll spend the rest of the night smelling him on your sweater
His morals and beliefs will save a life someday and if he has anything to do with it, it won't be his
There will never be another person out there for him who fits so perfectly into his life like I do, but that's the one thing I don't know how to tell him