I locked it away in a box that could only fit a ring,
I took a spade and embalmed
What was once dearest to me.
I know I should let go.
I should condemn it to the ocean
Or burn it to vacancy,
But if I entomb it
I’ll be able to find it again.
They told me that unearthing that box would be
Like dying again.
But like always;
I didn’t listen.
I dug it up.
And when I opened that box,
Something in me ruptured.
I sobbed because my little box was empty.
Of course it always had been.
Some things I just can’t let go of,
And some things I can’t deny.
All I can hope is
That you’ll unearth your little box too,
And we can hold this emptiness side by side.
And together we can cry.