Her Side of the Bed

Now I hold on to those moments like they're all I got to have.
And I still hear her in the quiet,
In the things she used to say,
In the way the house goes silent at the end of every day.
I don't chase it, I don't fight it,
I just let it come and go.
But there's pieces of her everywhere,
More than she will ever know.
Laundry piles a little different,
Shirts don't fold the way she do.