Boxes III

had to move
box, after box, after box
i found some old folders
with words of angst
with thoughts
i had thought
long lost

i sat and i read them
they impact me still
they spoke of my struggle
to keep my own will
i rummaged some more
and found the last note
my mother had written
an angry old ghost

manically she accused
all of their crimes
i had fled her, you see
fled All of those times

"I did not break down the door"
"I did not spray them with mace"
"I was a living example of rage and grace"

"I did not scare him away"
"he's a confused little boy"
"his siblings are not real"
"he will not be their toy"

"they curse and they drink"
"all the things I won't do"
"for I am in control"
"all I say is true"

---

a broken door
a phone on the floor
a sting in my eyes
as i shake
and i cry

---

no one now knows
of all that was tossed
of the locks in my mind
of the horrible cost
just that damned note
long lost
in a box