Your Gifts of Childhood

I've held onto

hundreds of dialouges

categorized into 

sober and not

Snide remarks made

in late hours

when your sensor has dozed off

or had too much

Emotional and verbal beatings

leaving wounds not yet reached 

by modern medicine

Your whispered opinions

spoken in malice and self righteousness

after the holidays

Broken promises

and years of neglect

held onto like a security blanket

Soon, I will return your gifts of childhood

in plain white boxes

lined on your porch sweetly

like small graves of our souls

Maybe you'll notice when you 

can't get out the door