Spring Cleaning; or The Life-Changing Magic of Realizing that Other People are Capable of Bringing You Happiness and Sometimes It's Better than What You Could Have Done For Yourself, and That's Not Only Okay but also Necessary and important
I look to you for a place to store my sorrows.
"My shelves are all filled up" I say.
"I am surrounded with clutter,
worries up to the ceiling,
and a desk stacked high with
the trappings of a disorganized mind."
To the window, I'll point and scream:
"every time there is a breeze,
my thoughts are scattered here and there!
They're trapped behind the oven, and look, over here!
Look! Underneath the couch, and on the dining table,
in the cupboards and in the drawers!
Even here, on the stairs -
I've tripped myself up no less than three times today!"
And you look at me, open eyes and open arms,
only to say that you haven't any more room for sorrows, only me.
And just like that, you brush aside your own feelings,
and tuck your fears neatly into labelled bins - each with their own place,
and you hold me, and me alone, closely in the space that's left.
Over there, the open window,
the wind over our skin
blowing my hair away from my eyes.