Things You Left Behind

Each discovery pulls me under, back to when you were around.
I keep moving forward,
But you're scattered through these walls.
Every drawer I open up, another thing I have to face.
How many times can I let go when you keep showing up in pieces?
I thought I was healing on my own, but you're everywhere.
You're everywhere.
I pack you up, I throw you out,
Then find something else the next day.
How do I move on from this when you won't stay gone?
Maybe I'm the one who's hiding them.
Maybe I'm not ready yet to wake up in a place where nothing here remembers you.