The Box

I never thought I would write poetry but this stuff just comes out.

I want to buy a box
made of steel
indestructible; rust resistant
In that box I would put
the last 5 years and lock it
away forever
I would bury this box
in a hole deeper than
any hole that exists
within my heart.
In that box would be
every feeling, emotion
every misdeed, every action and inaction
every saying, every kiss
every marital affair
and every extra
I would weld this box shut
and carve, with a sharp blade
I love you
on the top.
With a shovel
I would dig a hole so deep
within the recesses
and throw the box in
this hole and listen
to the sounds of the dirt
hitting the cold box that contains
memories and dates
of broken promises
and lost potential
I would excavate and
landscape to hide
any evidence of this
time capsule of pain
in order to forget.
They say that time heals
all wounds
but what does it do to a box
that time forgot
especially when you bury all
the memories.
do they become fossils?
or do they linger until the
day that the box is dug up
and pried open
with the same precision and
carelessness in which it was buried.
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