How many things did I buy because I couldn’t find the one I brought,
Buried in the bottom of a box of things I was compelled to keep because I can’t  leave anything behind.
Except the monkeys I painted on the wall when you still breathed my air
And the yard I lovingly tended because the green was my life, escape, necessary
And the conversations the walls hold until someone new fills in the nail holes and calls it their own