Souvenirs
There's a necklace on the nightstand
Scattered ash of weed
A stack of rolling papers
On the book you swore you'd read
A watch stuck on 8:30
That I'm guessing you won't need
There's a toothbrush in the cabinet
That was hardly ever used
A sweater in the closet
A pair of knock-off slip-on shoes
Some crumbs stuck to the counter
From the time I spilled the booze
All these souvenirs
Of a love I had before
All these souvenirs
They don't mean much anymore
There's a stain across my memory
An everlasting photograph
A little dryness in my humor
And a pause before I laugh
The traces of an accent
That I argue I don't have
All these souvenirs
Of a love that I once knew
All these souvenirs
Though I'm sure I left some too
For you