Plethora

You give me so many things I'm not used to owning

An overwhelming amount of thought, for one

But lately, I've found I'm losing more things

Maybe they hide under my sweaters thrown on the chair

Where I sit and read all your texts, hoping it will

Stir up new ones, my hand anxious waiting for it

Maybe under all my tears, my eyes will find them

My sense of wonder in the world

I think I see the corner of it hidden under my bed

Where my romantic ramblings hide when I don't want to

Bother you too much

I feel such need to talk to you

But I can't find my courage or my words

I got them both for a deal, but seemed to misplace them

Maybe I threw them somewhere in one of my crying fits

Or maybe they're under all the letters I've written you

And forgotten to send

I've lost my map I kept in my pocket

The map I use to guide me through my daily life

I realize I could use my phone

But then I would have to close your picture on my screen

It's hard to see the beauty in my surroundings

When you aren't here to see or feel them with me

Have I lost my glasses as well?

I swear I left the house with them, hoping to see you

In the lenses, a glint of light catching you

I keep losing so many things

My mind, my sense of love and warmth, my patience

I want you to help me look for them

But how can I cry out for help

How can I ask you to touch me, to see me

When I've seemed to have lost my voice?

Maybe it's where I've left part of myself, my essence

Hidden in a box of my old things

In the corner of your room

Covered in an old t-shirt and dust