Broken pieces of our shattered lives
are packed away and forgotten
like unwanted items in the attic.

Hidden inside a box that holds the crushed dreams
and un-kept promises of more hopeful times.

Near the torn bag of trust and the other miscellaneous emotions
which once held meaning in our lives.

How convenient to hideaway our mistakes and bad choices
or to stow away the things that once gave us joy,
but now only collect dust on a shelf.

We live by the rule out of sight out of mind,
more willing to discard than retain,
easier to forget than to feel pain.

Only to one day realize
there is no more room to store those unwanted memories
and we are force to go through them and remind ourselves
of who we once were.