As You Can

I’m packing my boxes now, at every turn weighing the items of my coffers against the lightness of a new space. What do hou want to bring? Who do you want to be in this new space? Choose carefully. 

I took down the shelf from above my door, all sheets and towels and one unassuming box, I didn’t think before I opened it and out feel all the memories I thought I had forgotten. That snowy view of the Christmas tree from above, that trip to the woods, that visit to an art gallery where the exhibit provides war plugs and I suddenly realized that was what you had been looking for. 

The key card to the hotel room where I thought it could be saved, only to later see that everything had already burned and I was quenching my thirst with the bitters of my own medicine. 

I stood paralyzed at the sight of the box, its unapologetic innards spilling out onto my pristine presentation of a life, glaring at me with its damaged goods. My damaged goods. Who do you want to be in this new space? 

You never could outrun yourself.