Boxes

and so you find yourself trying to live a life in boxes. You’re split; part of you is here and present, the rest is packed away in attics, spare rooms, tucked Under beds, kept out of the way.

and you live like this, because you must, but you find you’re always chasing your shadow, “sorry” you’ll say, “I’m miles away.” A life on pause, fraying at the edges, unpacking yourself as needed.

and everything you do, you’re working twice as hard, holding the pieces of your life together enough to get through. You’re quieter than before; it’s easier. You’re tireder too. Waiting to be you, here, again.