A thousand snapshots, too many for a single box
So many inanimate objects
now cursed, blessed.
Millions of songs, flavors and colors,
perpetually attached to you
As I am
Soaked to the skin
Covered in a memory deeper than any flood could
"What kind of heart doesn't look back,
At the comfortable glow from the porch,
the one I will still call yours? "
Breathe again- Sara Bareilles