one of these days I need to pack my bags
putting all that I have needed over the years
that photo album, I don’t remember since when
old penny given by my dad when I was twelve
walkman my brother gifted to me at fourteen
silk scarf, my mom presented to me at seventeen
tattered journal, coming apart at the seams
patch of air, damp yet essential
my broken thoughts, belonging only to me
maybe it is human nature to be cautious
and not let go of our comfort zones
“I need to collect all those before I toss them out of my life”
Filed under: 3WW, free verse, poetry
