Why, when I sleep, do I return
Like a wound never healed
To a home I used to know?

I walk the rooms
And pick up trinkets
Now covered in dust
That were once precious to me
I stuff my pockets with them
Thinking "I am so glad
I got to come back
One more time - 
To take away the treasure 
That meant so much to me!"

It was you though -
You were what I always 
Wanted to bring back -
But the dream never gave me you
Only the memory of a memory