The Things I Keep
A Poem

I gather the puzzle pieces.
Not the ones he broke...
but the ones we placed together.
Quiet afternoons where silence felt like safety.
π§©.π§©.π§©.π§©.π§©.π§©.π§©.π§©.π§©.π§©.π§©.π§©.π§©
I gather the songs we sang.
Off-key melodies in the car.
His voice a thread that stitched me to something
I wanted to believe was love.
β¬β©βqΛ.β. β§βΛ ..π€οΈοΈ.. β§βΛβ©βqΛ.ββ¬
I gather the toys he gave us.
Not the rage that followed...
but the sparkle in my eyes
before I knew how heavy gifts could be.
π§Έπ¦ππππΉοΈπ§Έππͺπ ππ§Έπ€
I gather the memory of his hands.
Not when they pointed blame...
but when they held mine to guide a jigsaw edge
into its rightful place.
πππ§©πππ§©ππππ§©π
I gather the ache of absence.
The years he vanished into the fog of his own mind
and I gather the grace
I tried to give him anyway.
β‘β₯β‘β¦β€β¦β‘β₯.+π+.β₯β‘β¦β€β¦β‘β₯β‘
I gather the words he threw
βNot good enough,β π£ βJust a mom,β π£ βYour husband is a mistakeβ π£
and I let them fall...
like brittle leaves I wonβt rake again.
ππππππππππππππππ
I gather my childrenβs laughter.
The warmth of their trust.
The lessons I teach in the quiet of our home
where love is not withheld or earned.
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I gather myself.
Whole and weathered, choosing what to carry forward...
not his shame, not his shadow...
but the light Iβve grown in spite of it.
β¨β¨β¨β¨β¨β¨β¨β¨β¨β¨β¨β¨
This is my harvest.
The moments that made me.
The ones I reclaim.
The ones I keep.
π§©β¬π€οΈοΈπ§Έπβ‘πππ€β¨β€οΈ
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About the Creator
Sara Wilson
I love Ugly Things.
I try and be active AND interactive.
I write... whatever I feel.
Sometimes it's happy.. sometimes it isn't. But it's real. And it's me.
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