Your Things Still Here

Your things still here, scattered like a map of who I was.
Your things still here; I can't let go because without them I'm just someone I don't recognize anymore.
Your things still here, and I'm not who I was before.
I catch myself in the mirror, and I don't know this face.
The man who lived with you disappeared without a trace.
These objects hold him hostage in rooms that feel the same.
I'm not keeping you; I'm keeping him.
Your things still here, scattered like a map of who I was.