Memory Box

A lifetime poured into a plastic box
At once careless and desperate
A bulwark against forgetting
In case the things that were are the less for having been
An evidence locker of having loved and laughed
Relics of things past and not likely to be repeated
This was then, this was here, more bittersweet than joyful recollection
What good does it serve us now?
Does anyone really care about the neglected exhibits of a life once lived?
Ah, the stories they could tell, ah, the stories you try to forget
Rub out, parse and edit
A sticky mess of napkins, straws and sporks
The need to be seen to care, the need for proof
Is it the debris or the memories that make us who we are today?
Jumbled strata of places visited, things done
The crushed shells, the ticket stubs
Mysterious scrawls and broken trinkets
Greetings cards for every occasion, the milestones, just because
Fragments salvaged from a more complicated story
An attempt to curate and narrate our passage
As though this tangled mess could prove that we once were happy

I'd love to know what you think, concrit is especially welcomed on fiction pieces. Thank you.

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