The boxes sat askew, littering the livingroom

And anywhere else they were able to fit

The boxes have started to come apart at the seams

Some have collapsed and spilled their contents

Exposing things she wasn’t ready to see yet

They weren’t meant to contain so much

For so long

Yet she ran, and just kept running, until the soles wore out if her shoes and her soul couldn’t take anymore

Some boxes moved with her many times

And they too, couldn’t take anymore

Most contained papers, ideas, plans, dreams

So many she couldn’t keep up

And each time she moved, she gathered them into a new box, bringing them with her

Losing which were priority, until soon, they all just blurred together

Her dreams lost among the chaos

Not knowing what was in which box anymore

For a while she did

But now it’s all just lost

She sits among her cardboard forest

Knowing how free she could be

How her creativity would soar

With the weight lifted off her wings

The weight of memories, of THINGS

Of joys passed through to now heartaches

When is the past left in the past

And we only carry what we cherish

Surrounded by all things that bring joy

Instead of what we are told we “should” keep

Others aren’t the ones carrying the weight of these boxes

Each new home doesn’t get to be a home

If it simply feels like a decorative storage locker

Waiting, holding its breath until the next move

Today she sits in her cardboard forest

As the boxes give yo trying to contain memories

That should have not come with all these times

The boxes containing, compartmentalizing in her mind, follow suit

They are all tired of containing things

That don’t belong here anymore

Tripping, bruising, stepping, falling

Arguing, snapping, grumpy, losing tempers

It’s not their fault when shes not left them any room to live

There’s no room to live, to breathe, to dance

In this decorative storage locker and cardboard forest

It’s time to settle, to release, to be free

We like it here, we want to stay

We need to show thos place we’re here for keeps

And the memories that keep moving with us

Can keep moving on

They’re no longer needed for protection or harm

Self sabotage can pack its bags along with fear

Notices of eviction are being sent out

The forest is being repurposed

We want our freedom back

Or maybe we want to learn for the first time

What freedom really is

Who am I without my stuff?

Who am I settled in a home?

Who am I free of chaos, of drama, of pain?

Who am I, when I learn to love me…