I have a box tucked under my bed.
Its full of my memories I have tucked away.
Emotions that shake the core of my soul,
Must stay locked away, so I stay in control.
This box is dark, deep, with a light.
I sometimes visit this box in the night.
When I do, I then remember why
I must hide this box from others eyes.
This box can hold the heaviest tear,
This box can hold all anger and fear.
This box remembers the love I once had,
And this box contains the pieces from that.
This box does hold my yearnings and dreams
Of helping the world from their pain and fears.
This box also stores my starving soul
Craving family, hope, love, and being whole.
This box also holds some laughter and light,
Which is why I still sometimes visit at night.
But then I remember the anger and loss,
So I always lock and hide away this box.
Someday in the future if I ever can heal,
I might be ready to open this box and feel.
But for now I’m afraid of what I would do
If these emotions take over-that’s when I’ll lose.
My anger would explode as I thrash it about,
And my fears would take over, leaving all trust-keeping doubt.
I fear I would fall the moment I try,
And hurt others around me, or make them all cry.
I grew tired of being the one who was there,
Yet alone I stood having to be strong and to bare,
This brutal world so others won’t see
The horrors I hid from them, locked now deep inside me.
So in my box these horrors live too
Along with all hope, and what’s left of me too.
I want to die before others can see,
The evil I feel that’s become part of me.
So my box will stay hidden deep under my bed.
It’s for the best, and safest I dread.
But sometimes I can’t help but feel drawn to it,
Yet I have to stay strong, and keep ignoring it.
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |