PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

a box can last a lifetime 

if it is filled with life.

plucking humans in and out daily

closing their eyes when the lid is shut

so no one can see the master at work.

inside this box there was a room

and in the room i could be found

sitting quietly and orderly in the corner.

smiling when smiled at, and crying

when thick hands pulled at my hair.

humans would fall into this box, into the room,

every day and every night. they

would bring colored cloth and sugar spray

and tales of their world.

so many adventures occured, but

never such adventures knew me

by name. one day, the box master

descended upon me, you. you were painted

red in your eyes and lingered

a scent that carried my mind and

drove me wild with curiosity.

you brushed the last bits of sunlight

from your shoulder. you didn't even 

realize that you were so suddenly my new world.

you crawled through the room and into my skin.

your eyes pecked from mine. you heard

things only my childhood would remember.

my imperfections bleeding through

your new found pores. you were

so cold. we should have carved 

that box. taken a canoe and sang that song.

you could tell me to kiss you and if i refused, i

would get out and swim. i would not move.

because you found my heart. remarkably, 

still pumping in your near frozen hands.

did you know i'm growing my hair long in the box, in the room?

just for you. we planned our

marriage on the blue cotton sofa.

one day, we went wrong. the lamp hit the wall

and the master took you from my aching arms.

you will never be able to remember the scars.

how did i get them?

must have slipped your mind, again.

you read my braile so well.

i wish the hands that pulled you away would send you back.

i'm in this box, sitting quietly.

as quiet can be, as orderly as i can, in the corner. again.

once so sweet, my smile now fights with the demons.

from all the empty words racing through this universe,

this box only lasts a lifetime.