Boxes of Memories

This house is filled with boxes full of memories.
We keep the good and throw out the bad.
In my brain it’s not so simple.
It’s a jumble. I can’t pick and choose.
The good and the bad are woven together.
I have feelings old and musty, feelings new and sharp.
I wish I could neatly box them away until the day I feel ready.
But I don’t get to pick and choose.
The heart is not a neatly organized home.
In this heart there are pictures on the wall that bring joy and sadness.

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