Every Blessed Thing - NaPoWriMo Day #23

Every Blessed Thing

I hold all your memories
like a locket long forgotten.
I'm resting in the musty, dusty
box of antique jewels
until crying eyes
fix on a hint of glint
and hurting hands
discover what's within.

I keep all your secrets too,
like a journal burnt to ashes.
I blow in the gusty, blustery
season's swirl of storms
until descendants
breathe in a bit of soot
but successors
cannot cut to the root.

I bear all the weight for you,
last century's good wife times two.
I smother under the bed covers
with other lovers
until I join you
six feet deep in sleep
where I'll let go
of every blessed thing.