Packing my cupboard
And there lies the letter you wrote
Drenched in your favourite Chanel Bleu
You said I can smell you when I miss you
Opening my wallet
I see you in the Polaroid we took
Back in London after a Saturday night blur
You in my favourite shirt, just us two
Hanging on my wall
Our pictures and your written note
In bouquets, on post-it’s, our adieu
And just like that, you’re back in my view
Memories flood my eyes; I miss you today.
—Lisa T., and just like that