The Box


I have buried many things in my soul, things you can never know. A box hidden in soul, where I keep my doubts. I keep my problems, my worries, my fears, buried beneath the many layers of clay and dirt of my soul, where nobody can ever know.

For no one knows where it is among those thick layers, no one can tell where my box is, not you, not them. I am the only one who knows where that spot is. I am the only one who knows where the roots of my heart and the buried wires of my emotions are and how to open the lock of my mind on that box. And everyday I dig up that box and add a new problem to it and bury it again, in hopes no one will find it.

But my box is getting full, anymore and it will burst. So please, lend me a corner of your box. Mine will hold no more and if that box breaks, I will have to sort through the rubble, trying not to damage the roots of my heart and the wires of emotions.

If I must move a root or a wire, I will need you help. I will need your help. I will need you to help support it as we move it to where it will go. And if I need a new box, I may take a while, for finding a new box takes time. It must hold all my fears and problems. That's not easy to do, so please don't rush me, not just any box will do.

And if you add to the mess while I'm trying to find that box or sort through the rubble, I will give up. Give up on the roots of my heart, the wires of my emotions, the layers of my soul.

I will give up on it all.