Old poetry

Sifting through old poetry
Is like counting scars
Littered across the surface of my soul
Re-ordering the strands of my heart
Each time I pick them apart.
Almost everything I write
Was inspired by some old flame
Then put away in the memory box of time,
Meant to collect dust that
obscures love long lost
Until i feel capable of blowing them off
To feel my heart tighten once more.