Because I can’t bring myself to pack that box
Because I’m stuck
Because childhood memories surround me,
sitting their on the shelves like gargoyles.
Pictures of the past, make me forget where I’m going and why.
I can’t bring myself to pack that box
I gave my sock monkey to my niece the other day,
came over to find that the dog had adopted it as his own–
Some things I just have to let go of.
I’m not sure where the next step will take me,
But I’m telling the Universe that I’m ready.
YOU HEAR ME?!
I’M READY!
Bring it on!
Tears of overwhelm cloud my vision and it’s hard to write.
Why do I feel stuck?
I wish I could just peek into the future,
and then I wouldn’t worry so much.
I can’t bring myself to pack that box.
Today I sit in the middle of my room.
Stuck.
Where do I start?
What will happen if I give that book away?
That dress? Those CDs…
I’m not a little girl any more.
If I lay on my bed and cry until 11pm I still have boxes to pack,
they won't pack themselves.
There are some things that are never going to change.
Today I wish the cloudy skies outside would let loose a flood so huge it would wipe away these boxes, and my house, and me so I won’t have to deal.
Dealing with life.
People drive cars, like they live their life.
People do most things, like people do most things–eat, dance, talk to small children...
Except packing.
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