The Last Spring Clean

Toss the clutter
to the clouds.
What I want is not inside
cramped closets
stuffed with miscellaneous mistakes,
noisy knick knacks, and
the burly bones of the past;
I buried my beast long ago.

Excavating me,
like digging my way out of
a cave that’s collapsed;
I used to gasp,
wheezing sourness
a hollow tomb,
conserving breath,
biding time to death.

Once resigned grave,
make room!
I am exiting you
like my own womb.
I’m leaving these flowers
strewn for a lover
with no antiquities to hide;
he left his fossil
in the carpet of my pride.

Will my future self
heed the imprint
over great divide?
Even in closeted darkness
only this future turns key,
removed a screen,
help me complete
my last spring clean.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s