beginning the awkward reintegration into my own world again

blowing the dust off of seldom used corners of of my mind

found a box marked happy pushed way to the back under all the baggage that has accumulated

a small crushed cardboard box on a shelf that had a childish scrawl and reads dreams

so much accumulated junk haphazardly stacked

highly combustible and by a now open flame

a neatly bundled stack of thank you cards never sent

a teddy bear missing an eye and threadbare from too many thunderstorm cuddles

a spilled jar labeled innocence

cobwebs like dreamcatchers hang everywhere, big fat black spider feast upon the smoky sadness

moth torn suits of former lives hang forgotten

the lone swinging bulb casts more shadows than it illuminates

i don’t like being alone up here

too many hard things to face, like the mirror i avoid

but in this light i feel bathed in, i know i must deal with the dark as well

the attic in my mind