The Box is where I keep everything.
All of my treasures.
All of my sins.
All of my mistakes.
And all of my lessons.
It's where I felt safe. It's where I know I can drop the act. Where I didn't have to pretend everything was ok. That everything doesn't have to be ok all the time.
Its everything I've every wanted.
And I want out.
The box is holding me back. Its slowly suffocating me. Trapping me inside myself. Everything is too familiar. I've gotten to confrontable. Too soft.
I'm be coming brittle. Too easily broken and that's not how I've made it this far. That isn't how I was able to get up every morning. To face my fear of today and bury the demons of yesterday. I've never been brittle.
Even when I was snapped in two I resisted the notion. Now every thing is to safe.
My thick skin is starting to shred.
My anger is starting to sound like begging.
My actions aren't learning from my mistakes.
My treasures are becoming my sins.
This safety is old and bitter.
Like a war veteran that regerts ever making it home.
This peace treaty with myself has gone on for too long.
Its time to bury this box.
Go hunting for another one.
Fill it with new treasures.
New sins.
New mistakes.
Time to get out of my confront zone.
Take risks again.
Like falling in love
Or doing something stupid.
Like falling in love.
I just need something new.
To remove the rust.
Get dirt under my finger nails.
And breath again.
Goodbye. And sweet dreams.
YOU ARE READING
A Boy And His Box
PoetryHey! This is my first time doing something like this so sorry if I suck. This is going to be a book mostly filled with poems I write. I'm going to do other things with later ,so of you don't like poetry stick around for some adventures. This book is...
