Empty Me

I’ve told you
I’m no good at discarding
the beautiful,
the keepsakes,
the nostalgic,
the useless.
With no discrimination,
no exclusions,
“Everything Must Stay!”
And stay it has.
Your section gathering dust,
a menagerie
of memories that catch
under my skin.
A faded emporium
gagging
on trinkets of
costume jewelry
and barbie doll memories.
Pointed, plastic hands
always open,
hungry,
for more of my time.
Begging for me
to pick them up
and turn them over
and give myself in
to the sentimental.
To pull the wings
off of my mind
and pin it,
crippled,
to an altar
of abstraction.

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