The Heart of a Traveler

With the feet of a weary traveler
and trodden down heart to match
stepped on and torn.

I traveled down every path
and journeyed down the most
dangerous roads

But I can't seem to shake
the bits I have left behind
parts of myself you still possess

Behind closed eye lids
your face still lingers
and my heart seems to stutter

Can you tell me why?
Why every road leads me
right back to you?