Today I cleaned my room
Dusted off memories
Put away images of the ancient past
That I needn't view anymore
I moved around pieces of foreign places
Positioned memoirs of childhood innocence
Lay frozen faces
In black and white
Down into the depths of my drawer
Almost like a burial,
But not quite.
They would lay there in darkness
Temporarily forgotten
But could always be revived.
I gathered scraps from Middle School
The words emitting
The smell of the lockers and the
Unsightly hallway bricks
Drip, drop.
The words seemed to say.
Rain from the incessant grey sky,
Or tears hitting the bathroom floor?
Alas, I recycle the bittersweet memories
A part of me wants to let everything go
But another says I shouldn't let it all leave
The duster gladly whisks away regret
I try to clear my room of the bad stuff.
Because rooms are mirrors
Reflections of ourselves
My shelves say a lot more about me
Than I would like them to