I’ve been searching
The love you’ve taken away
But I cannot see
Where your indecision
Hid it.
It may be
Somewhere in this room
Although scraps cover
Most of the flooring.
I can take my time
Picking up the pieces
And garnish my thoughts
With your submissive memory
But still leave the area
Stuffed with trash.
No longer would I do
The job of an errand boy:
Searching for items
Considered as garbage.
DEEPER LININGS 
Searching for old love rather than new can be a thankless task… best:move forwards! ♥
This is painful, Dennis. Sometimes it really is hard to find what was lost, or to put it back together when it is found. Ouch.
I got a notion that the love was so un-considered, it was not deliberately hidden, just forgotten beneath the wreckage. A fine read, sir.
This felt like a punch in the stomach to me… in a good way. I found the image of the things you need to sift through in order to try to make sense of lost love very powerful and moving. A universal theme explored in a very unique way… not easy to do.
Great read filled with vivid imagery
Tatius
Remarkable..this has a strange combination of strength n anger. Great Read!!
Ow. I can relate to this. It is indeed much better to move on. Great writing Dennis!
I recall the feeling of one’s love being unappreciated. It does hurt. This is well written, Dennis.
A heart-breaking scene you created here, Dennis. I felt the loss, the disillusionment. You limited your word count in just the right way, giving the reader a few details, specifically, without drawing out the recounting. Nicely parsed.