Sitting at the shoe store,
Filled with my mother’s new shoes
We take them home and she gives me the box
She says its for old things I don’t want anymore
She says only put things that you don’t need anymore in that box
Don’t put something you don’t want to forget in that box.
Only things you don’t mind forgetting
But can I open the box up again? I ask
She says only if you want to be hurt again
You put those things in for a reason, don’t open it up again
So I put that box in the bottom of my closet
Occasionally put in little trinkets or cds I didn’t want anymore
But always took them out
Decided not to put anything in that I would take out later
And it stayed empty for a while.
For a very very long time actually
Until one day I decided to put something in that I wouldn’t take out
I took the box out of my closet and put it on my bed
I took down pictures, ripped things out of my journal and put little things in.
I put them all in the box and labeled it with your name
Everything except one thing.
And I put it under my bed.
I told you about it,
I wanted you to tell me not to throw things away
I wanted you to tell me to remember
And you did tell me things I wanted to hear
For a little while.
I took some things out,
Only one or two items,
Even though I knew I shouldn’t
Mom said not to open it
And I really should have listened
And I really shouldn’t have kept it under my bed
I should have put it in the closet.
Let it collect dust in there.
But I didn’t
And now I guess I have to decide.
What do I do…
Where should I put the box?
Should I put that one last item in…
Or should I let it be one last reminder of you.
If I put things away does it mean I don’t love you?
Because I do love you.
But maybe I should put some things away
Should I let you collect dust?
Maybe I shouldn’t have written this…
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