I'm packing a box inside my memory space.
One that will be tucked deep away,
Where I'll hopefully never find it.
Along side others that found their way into my heart but broke it when they left.
I picked up your socks.
They'd been there for a couple of weeks.
With a sick masochistic longing,
I hoped that you would come back for them.
I wrapped the prescription box you left behind with them.
Threw both items into the bin.
Salty stinging tears on my cheeks.
I finally changing my sheets.
Now your smell is gone.
Bright candy coloured sheets chase away the gloom.
I slowly pick up memories of you.
The wonderful, the good, the bad, the ugly and the frightening.
They all get packed away.
They fill the box.
All public photos have been deleted of you.
Delete, delete, delete.
Like you never existed in my life.
Cutting you out of my life like a surgeon
Precise and final
I might request others of us to be deleted. Maybe.
The messages I'll keep for now.
Just in case something further happens.
But they'll get pushed down in the list so I never have to see them again.
The box is now full of you and what you meant to me.
I fold the flaps of the box over.
Sealing the box.
Done.
My feet take down the woven runner in the hallway of my mind.
Rough weave feels good beneath my toes.
I reach the room that contains my inner most secrets.
The door swings open invitingly.
I leave the box high up on shelf.
Its all done now.
The door closes softly without a sound
Fin
