I have a drawer full of stars
A reminder of who we are
All the bones we collected
Have lost their meaning
And are piling up useless
All I have left of the world
Is this drawer full of hopes
Remnants of what came
Memories of what’s gone
Just left over bone dust
And the memory of us
HASTYWORDS 
Wow – got a few of those boxes of my own – sad/sweet
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I remember that. Boxes of hopes and dreams now packed tight, taped shut, and stored to be picked over another day, or left until they’re forgotten amidst the place where boxes of things go to be unremembered. But you have life, love, and will build wonderful new memories.
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This is lovely.
I love my drawers, as painful as they may be, they are a reminder of how deeply I have lived. It’s those days that I spend sifting through them all that I could do without.
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