my friends they ask me
why i haven’t packed.
i say i do not know.
when really it is quite obvious,
i have difficulties
with letting go.
before i pack all my belongings
before i’m ready to leave the nest
i must pack up my soul
and carry in it all i love.
i need to take with me
all those times my mom
made me chocolate chip pancakes.
i have to
memorize the faces of every one
of my friends
until i can recall each of
their smiles and traits.
i want to fold my grandpa’s laughter
like a shirt that i can tuck away
in the drawer of my mind.
and i want to hold on
to those moments,
the one’s that make letting go
so hard.
i think that if i manage
to pack up
every bit of my heart,
then it won’t matter
what i put inside my luggage.
i will always be carrying
home.
no matter how far
we are apart.