Spring Cleaning

Darling,
_let us take these stories
__the ones we so loved to tell
And let us catch them
_in empty bottles and jars
__as they fall from our eyes
We’ll scatter them across our desks and window sills
Where people see empty glass trinkets
_we’ll see them filled to the brim
__with the thoughts and memories
___we no longer have room for in our chest
____but never wish to lose

Sweetheart,
_let us take the hurt
__wrap them up in that tissue paper only for gifts
And lay them in shoe boxes
_stacked with scraps of paper
__we don’t want to waste
And tell ourselves
_someday we’ll use them for something

My Love,
_let us note it all down
__in incomprehensible scribbles
___in such a hurry to write the story
____still, somehow, fresh in our minds
The words we said and shared
_in a code
__as if we were hiding the already revealed
So that when we
_eventually
__rediscover them
___and unseal the envelopes marked “Emergency Emergence”
____we can truly never understand what we wrote

My Heart,
_so many threads
__so
___many
____strings
Left loose and scattered
_each one alone
__frayed into
___a Hurt, a pain, a sadness, an ache
I have gathered them up
_twisted them between our fingers
__wove them into bracelets and rings
___and amongst the strands of my hair
Made something good
_something useful
__something beautiful

And all that we are left,
_My Dearest,
__is room within us
___for ourselves

A Poem by Colm Horgan