Leaf

"Why do you still have that?"

Simple, because I'm a hoarder.

Not because it's fun to poke at.

Or to run my fingers across the boarder.

But because I like things.

Specifically things you give to me.

It makes me feel like I have wings.

I can fly at any degree.

This is much more than a leaf.

Much more than me being me.

This is about my grief.

The fact that I'm rooted like a tree.

I live in a huge forest.

With so much land.

But it's not fun when I'm sorest.

Sore because you're not in my hand.

I need things to remind me of you.

To make me remember the happy highs.

I'm all screw,

if I don't remember your eyes.