Materialistic

By being materialistic
We give a piece of ourselves
to objects.
Objects have a soul,
Maybe that’s why
When you’re gone
I find you in your clothes
I find you on the path you walked
I find you in the smell
Of the things that once surrounded you.
They stand still
Covered by dust
They weep
And they miss you.

-things that once belonged to you now belong to the dust