Hide

There’s a snow globe

In my closet.

It was a gift- a special gift a stupid gift-

From long ago given to my great grandfather,

Bought at Target, semi-expensive

But I’m only guessing because I was too young to be the one that paid for it.

You could insert a picture from the bottom,

Record a message that would play when he would press a button.

The picture was of me- 2nd grade.

The recorded message of a little girl saying,

“Happy Birthday Grandpa!”

He died years ago.

I deleted the message.

There’s a baby picture

On my desk- messy cluttered clean clean clean-

It’s from an old disposable camera,

Faded and old.

It’s my mom; broken smile, sad eyes,

With me cuddled up against her side

Unaware and small.

I don’t know where my mom is.

I can’t look at the picture.

There’s a painting

my aunt made it- just like you not like you at all help stay away-

It’s of a man with long hair and tan skin

Dancing to the scene of a setting sun

And an orange sky

Its beautiful

It’s been around for as long as I can remember

I could never paint like that.

Covered by clothes in a corner of my room.

Jewelry

That I never wear- presents, courtesy, you’re not like them but you want to be-

Gathering dust.

Unfinished sketchbooks

Waiting to be drawn on.

Judging people will see don’t draw real things don’t-

Memories and hobbies and unfinished business calling out to me

Reaching out hands like they expect me to reach back

I’ve hidden things away for as long as I can remember

Down down down further until you can’t feel it anymore don’t remember don’t recall-

I’m as broken

as the pencils

Underneath my bed.

Shattered

Like the dishes

I dropped when I was little

Feelings waiting to be discarded

But too hidden away

Because I tucked everything

Down inside of me.

Until I could no longer tell they were there.

But we’re always here.