Friday, September 1, 2017

Ghosts in My Closet

I opened my oldest, dustiest closet.
And liberated myself.
I pulled it open and ghosts flew out of the door.
I realized, I had a collection of rotten things.
Old colorful arts and crafts.
Heaps of old and long letters.
Tattered notebooks messed up to the last page.
And lots of photos.
Everything looked well-preserved,
but smelled of rat's pee.
I grabbed all those that came from him,
and reluctantly remembered.
I ripped every memory - 
teared every word,
every face, every drawing,
 until it felt good.
I then pushed the pieces 
down the plastic bag with my foot,
pushed them until it almost burst,
then tied it with a rope twice.
It's ready for the garbage truck.
No more ghosts.
No more rotten things.
No more traces of him.
And there's now space
for something new
and way better.